Reality
by Vegetableswillhavetheirrevenge
Summary: Morgause's plan failed- Merlin has broken out of her enchantment. But she won't give up so easily, and now the whole of Camelot is going to suffer. The situation grows desperate- can Merlin find a way to stop an army of sorcerers? Sequel to 'Nightmares'
1. Chapter 1

**Phew. It's been awhile, but here goes- my promised sequel to Nightmares. I really hope you like it as much as you did Nightmares. It gets a bit darker later on, so I'm upping the rating for this to a 'T' just be make sure. Enjoy, and please feel free to let me know what you think :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 1**

In the bowels of a castle unreachable by those who do not know the secrets held by the art of magic, a dark-haired woman rose from her slumber, a single name still the only thing in her mind, as it had been for almost a month. A single name. And a single purpose. Revenge. Revenge on the man who had betrayed her, the man who had tried and failed to take her life. Revenge on the man she had once considered to be amongst her closest friends.

Merlin.

She dressed, shaking her head of the unwelcome thoughts and memories of past adventures as she did so, before making her way through the dimly lit corridors, finally reaching the courtyard where she knew her sister would be waiting for her. _Her sister_. She had barely believed it upon waking two weeks ago. She had a sister. She had a family. She had someone who understood her- who understood the powers she had feared so much, and who was willing to teach her to control them.

And there her sister stood, next to the seeing crystals, resplendent in a red gown so similar in style to the blue one she herself now wore.

"Morgause."

The older woman turned at her voice, smiling warmly towards Morgana.

"Sister. I trust you slept well?"

"Like a baby. And all the better for knowing what I will be shown. Is it time?"

Morgause simply nodded. "It is. Enough time has passed that the enchantment will have reached the desired effect. And now-"

"Now," interrupted Morgana, "I will be able to see Merlin destroyed."

"Indeed. Now look closely."

As one, and with identical smirks, the sisters faced the crystals, Morgause waving her hand over them before speaking the necessary words.

"_H__eo ætíeþ ús Merlin, esne biliþ ond esne drohtnung._"

Within seconds, in the largest of the crystals there appeared an image of a muscular Blond-haired man stepping on the back of a kneeling servant and climbing onto his horse. At that moment Morgana would have actually praised Arthur for his blindness to the conditions of others- a fault which she had often berated him for in the past. For it was this exact blindness which meant that he was now so oblivious to the pain his manservant must be going through. She waited with baited breath for the moment the dark-haired servant boy would lift his head, eager to see his inevitably gaunt face and pallid skin. Not to mention the dark rings and haunted expression she was sure would be lingering about his eyes.

But a moment later the head was raised, and horror and disbelief twisted her features. There _were_ no dark rings! His skin was no more pale than it usually was! Instead, blue eyes sparkled good-naturedly and he seemed as healthy as he ever had!

She took a step back as the image of Merlin laughed, clambering up onto his own mount, and watched the image fade from the crystal as he and a party of Knights rode out of Camelot. Immediately her face snapped towards her sister's.

"What was that? You told me that he would be as good as dead by this point- you told me that the nightmares would have driven him mad!" The man had poisoned her- he deserved to suffer!

Morgause shook her head, confused. "I am as shocked as you sister. At this point the spell has been in place for nigh on three weeks- he should by all means be on the brink of exhaustion, unable to even move."

"Then what has happened?"

There was silence for several seconds as the older woman considered the possibilities.

"Well?"

"There is only one reason I can think of," began Morgause, "and although it seems almost impossible, it can only be that the boy discovered the flower I planted in the early stages of the enchantment. During the first few days it would have been possible for the spell to be broken simply by destroying the source. It is extraordinary lucky for him if he happened upon it during that period."

"He has always been absurdly lucky." Morgana was surprised for a second at the bitterness in her own voice, until she remembered once again that this was the man who would have been responsible for her death. Then a thought occurred to her. "Why did you not know this sooner? Surely you could have seen it."

"Alas sister, the crystals are temperamental- they can only be used under certain conditions by all but the most powerful of sorcerers. I regret that I hold but rudimentary control over them. Any glimpses I can have are few and far between, which is why I had you wait until today. I am only sorry that I could not have shown you a more pleasing outcome."

Morgana shook her head. "No. While I cannot pretend that I am not disappointed, I cannot blame you for mere circumstance. You tried. And there will always be another chance."

"And that chance may come sooner than you think sister."

"What do you mean?"

"While I admit I had not foreseen that the boy would break free of the enchantment, I have already set several plans into motion. It will be an easy matter to make sure he suffers as you have suffered when Camelot is in our grasp."

The young seeress felt a now familiar thrill run through her body as she recalled the future Morgause had described to her. A Camelot free of the tyranny of her previous guardian, Uther Pendragon. A Camelot where magic was once again practised freely on the streets- where she would not have to hide her powers, but would instead reign over the people with pride. A new age. A new era. With her as queen, and her sister to guide her every step along the way.

She faced her sister with an eager smile. "Go on."

"While one plan may well take many months, there is another ready to set in motion immediately. It has taken time to gather enough people, and to find someone worthy of leading them, but I believe I have accomplished exactly that."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, my dear sister, that with so many away searching for your whereabouts, even the great and powerful Knights of Camelot will find it hard to resist when they have an army of over two hundred sorcerers as their foes, especially when these sorcerers are aided by my own powers."

"Two hundred?"

"And more."

The sheer enormity of what Morgause had said took a few moments for Morgana to take in. "You said that you had found someone worthy of leading them?"

"I did."

"Who?"

"A man of great charisma. Many people have followed him without question in the past- and many will follow him again." She turned towards an archway at the far end of the courtyard, Morgana following her gaze to where a man with untamed hair and unkempt cloths stepped from the shadows.

Her breath caught in her throat as she viewed that same old charismatic smile.

"Alvarr."

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**For any who want to know, the spell (although probably translated badly) basically means "Show us Merlin, his image and his actions"**

**Once again, please review :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**He he. Another day, another chapter. Thanks so much for all the alerts, and to those who have reviewed or added this story as a favourite. It's so good to see some of those I recognise from 'Nightmares', as well as the new people too :D**

**Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin (although if the writers of the show randomly read my story and wanted me to help, who would I be to refuse?)**

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**Chapter 2**

"You really are a complete idiot, aren't you Merlin!"

A few Knights looked up briefly at the sound of their Prince having yet another argument with his hapless manservant, but most of the people in the camp paid them no heed, instead settling down for the night. It was now the ninth day of this expedition. Tension was high, and tempers were fraying. Who could blame the Prince for getting somewhat annoyed with his servant's incompetence?

What they were unaware of were the quiet words of the ancient language said servant was muttering throughout his master's tirade.

If Merlin hadn't been so focused on the spell, he would have rolled his eyes. It never ceased to amaze him how Arthur could continue to give practically the same lecture almost twice daily without losing interest. It was lucky for them, though, that the Prince had never grown bored of it in the past. It gave them the perfect cover for him to cast his magic without any of the Knights being any the wiser.

The young warlock had researched this particular spell the day before their journey began, at Arthur's request, as there were certain things they would want to talk about during their time together which it would we unwise for others to listen to. Although it didn't really stop others from hearing what the two spoke about, it effectively blocked the conversation from their minds. Basically, for the ten minutes the spell would be in effect, anyone who passed them would simply not notice anything the pair said to each-other. Unless they were invited to join the conversation, or Merlin stopped the spell.

A nod of his head and a faint flash of gold in his eyes marked his completion of the chant. At once, Arthur wound down his rant and the two settled themselves down a small distance from the campfire.

"Well," began the Prince, "have you sensed her at any point today?"

"No. Nothing."

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you absolutely certain that you can't track her?"

"I told you before- unless I've prepared the person beforehand there's no way for me to track them from a distance. The most I can do is sense if they're in the general area. Other than that, I'm about as clueless as any of you. That won't change- no matter how often you ask me."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just…" His voice petered out, the two of them falling into silence for a few seconds before Merlin remembered their limited time.

"Don't worry- she won't be hurt- Morgause obviously cares about her too much. It's just a matter of time. But we'll find her."

Merlin could see the quick study Arthur gave his face, even if his friend tried to hide it. They both knew what Morgana being found might mean for the warlock. If she told anyone that he had poisoned her, then he would be sentenced to death. The king would not be willing to listen to reason, even if it had been the only way for Camelot to be saved. He was blind as far as Morgana was concerned. Not to mention that it would be the word of a servant against that of the king's ward. It was something they hadn't talked about, and something he sincerely hoped Morgana wouldn't stoop to doing.

After a few seconds Arthur sighed resignedly, evidently deciding to leave that particular conversation for another time.

"What about Morgause? Surely she'll have discovered by now that her enchantment has been broken. Do you think she could have worked out your secret?"

"I doubt it." He gestured down at himself. "Let's face it. I'm not exactly what most people imagine when you say the word magic. It's probably what's kept me alive so far- no-one ever expects me to be anything more than a bumbling idiot."

They both grinned slightly at that. It was certainly what had kept Arthur from noticing- at least until Merlin had lost control of his magic during a particularly bad nightmare and knocked the Prince half-way across the campsite during their previous expedition. It was fortunate for them that no-one else had been in the camp at the time.

Then Arthur became slightly more serious.

"And are you certain that you set up those protective charms well enough? We still don't know whether or not she'll try again."

Merlin leant back slightly, breathing in deeply. "Oh believe me, she'll try again. I poisoned her sister- she's not just going to let me off that easily. The question is how she'll do it- she doesn't seem the type to try the same thing twice." He looked at Arthur. "To answer your question, yes, the charms have been set up. They should be enough to warn me as to whether or not any malicious magic has been used anywhere in Gaius' chambers. That's about all I can do for now. "

"Very well. I don't think there's anything else important for now, so you can end the-"

Merlin jolted upright, startling Arthur into silence. There was a definite hint of magic in the air, almost as though multiple powerful spells had been cast at once. He stared into the forest, trying to discern the direction of the source, but the feeling was gone almost as quickly as it had come.

"Merlin?"

He shook his head, blinking, before turning to face Arthur once again. "What?"

"Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure…" He spoke hesitantly, staring warily into the trees. Had he imagined it? "I thought… I thought I felt something. But it was confusing, and it was only for a second. It may have just been my imagination." _Or it may be incredibly bad._

Arthur was a warrior. He had been trained all his life when to rely on his instincts- instincts which had saved his life in many a battle. And right now, his instincts were telling him that there was a truth to what Merlin had felt- that there was (or at least had been) danger nearby.

"What was it? Where did it come from?"

"I'm not sure. It felt like magic, but it was disjointed, like there were about fifty spells cast at once." He pointed vaguely to his left. "Somewhere over there."

Arthur looked at the sky. "It's too dark to do anything now, but we'll head in that direction tomorrow. It's only a slight deviance from where I was planning to go anyway- nobody will question it. For now, we should probably get some sleep."

Merlin nodded, releasing his hold on the spell. The two made their way over to their bed rolls, nodding at the Knight keeping first watch. As he settled down, pulling the blankets up to his neck, the warlock's mind shifted back to what he thought he had sensed. The magic he may have felt wasn't extraordinary powerful separately, but it was still quite strong, and there was a lot of it.

And it didn't feel friendly.

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The following morning, Arthur led the group in the direction Merlin had mentioned. If memory served, there was a small village just a short ride away. If anyone asked, his excuse for changing his plans would be that he wanted to search the village. He seriously doubted that the villagers would hold any information about Morgana, but the king was expecting him to explore any and all possibilities of her whereabouts.

About 45 minutes of gentle riding later the party crested the ridge of one last hill.

And stared.

Sir Mordon, to Arthur's left, was the first to speak, muttering a swear word. Then it was Sir Caridoc.

"What in the King's name happened here?"

The village was in ruins.

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**:'(**


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow- so many Alerts building up. Thanks so much guys, especially those of you who have reviewed- they really help me to get in a writing mood. I'll tell you a secret at the end of this chapter, so look out for that :)**

**Well, hope you enjoy this chapter... although I guess enjoy isn't really the word considering what's in it... Hmmmm...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 3**

They walked in silence through the remains of the village, leading their horses. Bodies lay strewn throughout the streets, some ripped into several pieces. Charred corpses could be seen collapsed in crumbled houses, some still in their beds. Scorch marks ran the length of every pathway, and the last dying sparks of fires were visible smouldering amongst the rubble.

Merlin and Arthur found themselves staring at the burnt form of a tiny baby, clutched in it's dead mother's arms. Merlin felt sick, the carnage providing unwelcome memories of the Dragon's attack on Camelot. None of the bodies seemed to be bandits or soldiers from another land, and there was a faint tinge of magic in the air. _Was this what he had felt last night?_

After what seemed like an endless age, but was in fact just a few short seconds, Arthur tore his gaze from the dead babe, instead looking round at his Knights' horrified expressions. His words caught for a moment in his throat, and when they finally came out they sounded almost strangled.

"Search for survivors."

They immediately went into action, picking carefully through the rubble. No-one spoke, overcome as they were by the scale and viciousness of the destruction, instead working in sombre silence.

It wasn't until they had searched through almost the entire village that an urgent shout rose up from Sir Vidor.

"Over here! I found someone!"

As one, the group ran from their respective positions, hastening to clear away the piles of stones which were pinning the survivor's left arm and leg. He was unconscious. But he was alive.

Three of the Knights went to finish the search through the one remaining area, the rest standing nervously in a loose circle around the rescued man while Merlin hurried to tend to the man's wounds as best he could. His wounds were severe- blood was trickling from his broken arm, his leg was partially crushed, and burns were running along the entire left side of his body. But he seemed strong, and the young warlock had no doubt that if they got him to Gaius fast enough then he would survive.

After patching the man up as best he could, Merlin turned his face towards Arthur's. The Prince stared back, concern evident in his expression. This man seemed to be the only survivor- none of those gathered around felt like they could forgive themselves if they let him die.

"Will he be alright?" The Prince's voice was strained, tense.

Merlin nodded. Just once. "He should be. We need to get him to Gaius as fast as we can, and I doubt he'll ever be rid of some of these scars, but he should live."

There was a collective sigh around the circle, many of the Knights bowing their heads in relief. There were brief mutterings of "Thank God" and "I'm glad" before Arthur interrupted them once more.

"We need a cart- it may be dangerous to put him on a horse unless absolutely necessary. Sir Vidor, Sir Mordon- I trust I can leave that to you?"

The two Knights nodded, rushing to search for a usable cart. After a few minutes they returned, pulling a travois.

"This is the best we could find sire," said Sir Mordon, "anything else was too damaged."

The Prince passed an appraising eye over the small wooden structure. "It'll have to do. Put him on it. We ride for Camelot immediately."

It was while they were securing the man to the travois that his eyes flickered slowly open. One of the Knights noticed as he began to stir.

"Sire!"

Arthur was immediately at the man's side, Merlin hovering at his master's shoulder.

"Wha- Who are you?"

"I'm Prince Arthur. What's your name?"

The man blinked confusedly, his eyes out of focus. "My name? My name is… is Amyas."

"That's good. Amyas, listen to me. Can you tell me what happened here?"

"What do you-?" Amyas' eyes grew wide, realisation dawning, and he began to fight against the bonds tying him to the travois. "No. No! Where's Ysabel? Where's Ysabel? I need to-!"

Arthur grabbed his shoulders, forcing Amyas to face him. "Calm down. I need you to tell me what happened."

He blinked. "I don't… I don't know. One second everything was fine, and the next the whole village was on fire. I was outside, so I ran into the house. I had to find Ysabel- my wife. I had to. The last thing I remember was the sound of stone cracking, and then…" He stopped, staring pleadingly up into Arthur's face. "Where's Ysabel? Did she make it out? Please- please tell me she's alright. Please…"

There was silence, the Knights staring round hopelessly. Merlin looked on, close to tears, as Arthur's face sank forward.

"I'm sorry."

Amyas just stared at them for several seconds before leaning his head backwards, tears welling in his eyes. "No…" he whispered, "no, it can't be… she can't…"

"I'm so sorry."

The group backed away, leaving Amyas for some moments alone with his grief while they prepared for the journey back to Camelot. The last thing to be done was securing the travois to one of the horses. The man stayed silent throughout, and no-one dared to speak to him. What was there to say?

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Arthur looked over at Merlin. They had been riding for many leagues, Camelot just a few short hours away, and the boy had barely said a word in all that time. It was obvious he was upset- they were all relatively subdued, and none of them wanted to be too loud for fear of interrupting their passenger's mourning- but there was something more to this. And Arthur had a feeling he knew what was wrong.

He gestured for Merlin to join him a short distance ahead of the others

"I want to talk to you." He shifted his eyes towards the other riders, hoping Merlin would understand what he was trying to say. "In private."

The manservant appeared to pay him almost no heed, but after a short while he nodded glumly and began to utter some words in the ancient language. Once his friend had stopped speaking, and his eyes flashed the now-familiar shade of gold, Arthur spoke.

"What's wrong Merlin?"

The young manservant simply gulped, clenching his eyes shut for a second. "Nothing."

"Merlin. You can tell me."

"It's noth-"

"Merlin."

They rode forward several paces before, finally, the warlock relented. "It's my fault Arthur. I felt that magic- I should have gone immediately to see what it was. If I had, then maybe a lot more lives would have been saved."

"Merlin- you heard Amyas. The attack came out of nowhere- even if we had ridden as fast as we could, we would never have made it on time." He sighed. "Besides- how would we have explained to the Knights why we were suddenly riding off in a random direction in the middle of the night? We couldn't very well say that you had sensed some magic, could we?"

"But I-"

"Merlin. It was not your fault. There was nothing you could have done. There was nothing any of us could have done. You should just be glad that we managed to save even one man."

Merlin looked like he was going to protest, but quickly closed his mouth again, nodding dejectedly.

"Sometimes I get so sick of it Arthur. So many people have suffered. So many people have died. A lot of them because of my own mistakes- my own failures. And I can't even do all I could to help, because if anyone else found out, I'd be dead within a matter of days."

It really hurt Arthur to hear his friend talking like this. For so many years Merlin had been so alone, protecting Arthur without anyone but his mother, Lancelot and Gaius knowing even in part who he truly was- and only Gaius had been near him for most of the last few years. For one even younger than Arthur himself, Merlin had seen and suffered through so much.

"I know it's hard Merlin, but I promise you that when I'm King it will not be so- you'll be able to be completely open."

Merlin looked at him, a stray tear rolling down one cheek.

"I know that Arthur. But none of us can know when that day will come. How many more innocent lives will be lost before then? I have made so many mistakes Arthur. How many more will I make in the future?"

Arthur paused for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"We all make mistakes Merlin. I myself have made my fair share. I have also caused suffering to the people, such as that time I slew the Unicorn. The difference between us is that I had you, Gaius and several others to talk to about my mistakes, while you so often had to bear the burden yourself. I know that much of what you have told me are things you never even told Gaius." He looked earnestly at his friend. "But you don't need to suffer alone any more. I'm here. I know what it feels like to hurt those you want to protect. And now that I know your secret, we can help each-other so that we don't make so many wrong decisions in the future. We can learn from the past, but we must not dwell on it. Instead, we should focus on what is yet to come."

The pair continued in silence for a few minutes, both painfully aware that the time they had left before the spell wore off was growing short. Eventually, Merlin turned once again to face Arthur and, while he still seemed sad, there was no longer an oppressive air of guilt surrounding him.

"You're right. Thank you Arthur."

The Prince tried to hide an embarrassed grin. "It was no problem. Anything to stop you moping-you're about as entertaining as my old Nanny when you're upset, and she could have bored even old Bertram from the council half to death."

Merlin gave a quick snort. He opened his mouth to retort, but a tingling feeling in his forehead warned him that his spell was about to run out. "Oops- looks like we're out of time I'm afraid." He looked towards Arthur, growing serious once more. "I mean it- thanks."

The two grinned at each-other, Merlin shaking his head to clear it as the last vestiges of the spell released their hold. It always felt rather like a moth flapping around inside his head when this particular spell ended- something he was fairly certain he would _never _get used to.

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_**Aww. Poor Merlin, feeling all guilty.**

**Well, I promised you a secret, and here it is: With all of the ideas I have for this story floating around inside my head, it looks like I may well need to write a third part after this one- a whole 'nother sequel! (You'll see why later on). Just think of it as though it's a series of three episodes. Or something. Whatever works for you :)**

**So please give me lots of reviews- whether they're just to say what you think, or to point out something I'm doing wrong. All are welcome, as I want to make my writing as good as I can, so that you can enjoy it all the more.**

**Thanks for reading. Yuo'll be getting a few hints about the sorcerers tomorrow, so stay tuned :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks once again for all of the reviews etc.- I'm so happy that you guys are enjoying this story :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 4**

They reached the city about an hour before sunset, riding quickly through the lower town. Merlin looked around warily as they went. There was something wrong- a strange, tense, atmosphere in the air, and the market was lacking it's usual hustle and bustle. Arthur seemed to notice it too- he had a worried expression in his eyes, and his jaw was tight.

The evidence of unrest was greater once they reached the castle courtyard- the servants who ran up to take the group's horses from them were twitchy, and there were practically no other people in sight.

Arthur faced his Knights.

"Sir Caridoc. Sir Vidor. I am entrusting you two to ensure that Amyas is seen safely to Gaius' chambers. The rest of you are dismissed- I have no doubt you are all in need of a rest. Merlin." He looked at his manservant. "You come with me."

"Yes sire."

The group split up, Merlin following Arthur as he stormed briskly through the corridors. He was glad that the Prince hadn't ordered him to go along with Amyas- there was something awfully wrong in Camelot, and he had no doubt that Arthur had had the same thoughts as him- that Merlin would be able to work out what he would be capable of doing a lot faster if he was present when Arthur met with his father.

His trepidation only grew as they walked through the castle. People were rushing around with harried looks on their faces, the servants only acknowledging their Prince out of sheer force of habit. Just what had happened in the time they had been away?

Someone had obviously noticed their arrival in the courtyard and gone ahead to tell the king, as they were met half-way by Sir Leon, the older Knight quickly falling into step with Arthur.

"Arthur. We were not expecting you back for several days."

"We ran into some trouble. Where is my father?"

"In the council chambers. An emergency meeting was called earlier today."

Arthur frowned, but refrained from questioning Leon further. It was far wiser to collect all the information at once, rather than listening to a quick explanation, and his father would only repeat what Sir Leon would have said anyway.

They reached the council chambers just minutes later to find the room in orderly chaos. Some people were rushing about with papers, others writing furiously, others arguing. The King was intently surveying a map of the kingdom, only looking towards Arthur when a nearby noble whispered in his ear that his son had arrived.

He gestured for Arthur to join him, the Prince marching across the room with Merlin hot on his heels. Arthur wasted no time, speaking almost before he even reached the king.

"Father what has happened? This morning we came across a village apparently destroyed in a matter of minutes- I come to report to you and find the entire city on tenterhooks. What is going on?"

Uther took a deep breath, turning his attention once again to the map before him.

"I fear the kingdom is under attack. The village you mentioned was not the only one- there have been three other reports today- entire villages wiped out at various points throughout the kingdom."

Arthur couldn't prevent the look of horror which flitted across his face. "Three?" That would make four villages in total- how many people dead?

Uther nodded. "And this in only one night. I have sent out riders-"

The doors burst open, a solitary Knight rushing over to where the two royals stood. He gave a small bow and spoke to the king.

"My Lord. We have just received reports that two more villages were attacked mere hours ago. A patrol saw one of the attacks happen." The man's voice caught slightly, as though he could barely believe what he had heard.

"What happened?" Demanded Uther.

"Apparently sire, it was a group of sorcerers. Over fifty of them at once. It appears that several bands of renegades have joined forces." He paused, taking in the anger on the King's face. "And that is not all sire…"

Arthur stepped in. His father could be unreasonable towards magic at the best of times. With such news, who knew _how_ he would react.

"What is it?"

The Knight turned towards Arthur.

"The villages are less than a days walk away. The sorcerers are heading towards Camelot. And, they are being led…" His eyes darted towards the King, flicking back to Arthur apprehensively. "By Alvarr."

Heads turned, the entire room now focused on the Knight's news. Alvarr was a dangerous foe. He had escaped once already (although the only two in the room who knew the truth behind that matter were the Prince and his manservant) and had a fearsome reputation as a brilliant leader and strategist.

There was silence for several moments, both Arthur and Merlin realising something at the same time. Arthur spoke.

"That's not all though. If so many villages were attacked last night in such different locations, it means that there is more than one group."

Uther looked at him, horrified realisation dawning on many faces.

"Then that means," said Uther, "that we have what is effectively a small army of sorcerers heading for Camelot."

"And," went on Arthur, "that they will likely arrive tomorrow."

Silence fell, many people looking round in despair. How were they supposed to defend the city against a band of sorcerers who were capable of such destruction?

Finally, Uther took charge of the situation. He turned to his son.

"Arthur- I want you to warn your men. When the sorcerers reach they city, they will find the army of Camelot awaiting them." He raised his voice, addressing all those in the room. "This is what we have fought against for so many years. The evils of magic now threaten our great kingdom. But we will not back down. We will fight back, and we _will_ win!"

A cheer rose up around the room, Arthur bowing before immediately setting off to do as commanded.

Once they were in an empty corridor Merlin turned to him.

"I'm going to go and talk to Gaius. There must be something I can do."

And he was gone before Arthur could say a single word.

Arthur cursed silently. This would be a dangerous time for Merlin. But he couldn't go after him and warn him to be careful- he had orders to fulfil, a city to prepare. He could only hope that Merlin wouldn't do anything stupid.

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As Merlin neared Gaius' chambers, he heard voices coming from within. He pressed his ear up against the door, listening hard. The first voice was Gaius, and the second seemed to be Amyas.

"…with a poultice. You'll have to apply it to the burns twice daily. And I'll be keeping you in here for the next few days, just so I can be certain of the extent of damage the smoke may have done to your lungs. We'll have to see how things go with your leg, but hopefully with some work you should be able to move around normally in a few months."

The reply was gruff. "Thank you."

There was silence for several seconds, Merlin deciding it would probably be fine for him to enter. He was about to do so when the old Physician's voice rang out once again.

"Is there… anything you can remember about what happened? Did you see one the attackers? Notice anything at all which may be of use?" No reply seemed to be forthcoming, so Gaius continued. "Listen, Amyas. I know this is hard for you, but any information you could give may well assist in bringing those who did this to justice. We cannot allow them to roam free, destroying more innocent lives."

Another silence, and then what sounded like Gaius sighing. "I see." It took Merlin a second to realise- Amyas must have shaken his head. Sometimes the young warlock found himself wishing he knew of a spell which would make him able to see through things- it could be so strange listening to a conversation when he had no idea what the participants were doing.

Then… a mutter.

"No…wait a minute."

Merlin pressed himself further against the door, finding himself imagining Gaius' head whipping around to face the injured man. The Physician spoke with barely restrained urgency.

"What is it?"

"I remember… a man. Just before the roof fell. I looked back outside, because I could hear someone laughing. There was a man there…"

"Go on."

"He had a strange wooden medallion around his neck. For some reason, I couldn't take my eyes off of it."

"Did this medallion have anything on it? Any markings?"

"Yes." Amyas sounded almost dazed, as though he were lost in the memory of a dream.

"Do you think you could draw it for me?"

"Yes."

Merlin strained to hear what was going on, but no sound reached him. He could only assume that Gaius had presented his patient with a quill and some parchment. It was about a minute later before the old man spoke again.

"Thank you- I'm sure this will prove most useful. Now take this- it will help you to sleep. You need plenty of rest."

Merlin waited a few minutes before entering quietly, wandering over to the Physician. He looked down at the diagram spread across the table- a bare tree with swirling lines radiating from the branches, each one ending in a small orb.

"Is that what was on the medallion?"

"You-" For a moment, Gaius looked as though he was going to scold his ward for eavesdropping once again, but instead he just heaved a weary sigh and nodded his head.

"It is. Unfortunately, it is a symbol I have never seen before. I do, however, have a suspicion about the medallion itself."

"What about it?"

The Physician leaned forward, resting his chin on clasped hands.

"There is a rowan tree on the isle of the blessed. Many magical artefacts have been created from it's branches in the past- staffs, pendants, and many other trinkets- each one wielding the power of the old religion. Uses varied dependant upon the design."

"You think this rowan tree is what's being shown in this diagram?"

Gaius nodded. "I'm certain of it. The question is what the rest of the diagram represents."

Merlin breathed out, looking around at the piles of books spread around the room.

"In that case, I better get started on some research."

"I'll help."

"No." He paused, looking at the questioning look on Gaius' face, the old man having half-risen from his chair. "There are likely going to be a lot of injured people tomorrow- you're going to need as much rest as you can get if you want to be able to help them."

"But Merlin-"

"Gaius. Trust me- I can do this. If it makes you feel better, I promise to wake you if I find anything."

The old man hesitated for a moment, before giving a slow nod of his head.

"Very well. The books most likely to provide any useful information are up there on the far right." He gestured to the bookcases at the top of the stairs which led up the wall.

Merlin, with a flash of gold in his eyes, immediately made the whole shelf full of books fly into his room. It would be easier to have them all in there so that he wouldn't need to walk in and out all night. Grabbing the hunk of bread Gaius offered to him, as well as the diagram itself, he quickly followed the books, only pausing to turn around when the Physician spoke once more.

"Make sure you do tell me. If you do find something."

The young Warlock nodded. "Of course."

Then he entered his room, closed the door, and settled down for a sleepless night.

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**Soooo... (attempts a casual tone, but ends up sounding pleading)... Review?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow! 22 alerts! And thanks once again for all the reviews- keem 'em coming people- the more I get, the more eager I am to write :D**

**Well, here's the next chapter for you :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 5**

Morgause rode through the makeshift camp, satisfaction shining from her face as she approached the tent in the centre where she knew Alvarr would be waiting for her. It had taken her many months to find enough magic users who were willing, under the right conditions of course, to rise up against Uther. But the result of her effort would, she was sure, be well worth it- with the aid of the medallions she had provided to each sorcerer it would be easy enough to bring Camelot to it's knees.

Approaching the tent, she leapt from her horse, leaving it in the care of the closest man as Alvarr stepped from his tent. He gave a slight bow as he greeted her.

"My lady."

"Alvarr."

"Would you like to step inside?" He gestured to the tent, indicating that she was free to enter if she so wished.

She declined, a small shake of her head enough for him to show her refusal.

"No. I will be leaving shortly. I merely wished to enquire as to the success of last night's experiments. Did your men find the medallions satisfactory?"

"They did. With your aid, and with Camelot's Knights defenceless against sorcery, tomorrow's battle should prove surprisingly easy." He paused, a hint of his fierce determination creeping into his expression. "Uther will pay for the crimes he has committed these past years."

"When do you break camp?"

"We leave shortly after first light. We should reach the city by noon."

Morgause nodded. "Then I shall depart once again for the Isle. I wish you luck."

"As I do you my lady." Alvarr leaned forward, taking her hand in his and kissing it lightly. "Farewell."

The blonde sorceress reclaimed her horse, climbed lightly onto it's back, and rode swiftly out of the camp. She had made the right choice in selecting Alvarr to lead the small army- the man had enough charisma to make even _her_ heart beat a little faster.

* * *

Dawn's first rays of light were just poking through the window when Merlin finally found the image he was looking for. His head jerked up, tiredness instantly forgotten, and he leaned forward eagerly, scanning quickly down the page to see what the diagram meant.

Seconds later found him staring at the page in horror, before he raised his voice so that he'd be heard in the next room.

"Gaius!"

The physician entered the room merely half a minute later. Thankfully, the old man woke before dawn each day to prepare for his tasks as Court Physician. He took one look at his ward's expression before shutting the door behind him and striding over as fast as he could manage to sit on a stool facing the boy.

"By the look on your face, Merlin, I am guessing that you have found the meaning of the diagram. And that it is not good news."

Merlin shook his head, taking a deep breath before launching into his explanation of what he had discovered.

* * *

Half an hour later found the young warlock entering Arthur's chambers with a breakfast tray in his hands, and a solemn expression on his face.

Arthur was already awake and dressed. The prince had had his armour brought up the night before in preparation for today's events, and was just checking it over as his manservant entered, having taken it upon himself to do the task so that Merlin would be free to research. He looked up as the warlock entered, walking over to the table and grabbing a loaf of bread from the tray as it was set down.

"Have you found anything?"

Merlin muttered some words in the ancient language before answering. He wasn't sure where this conversation would lead, and as such he didn't want it to be overheard. Couldn't _afford_ for it to be overheard. The Prince raised his eyebrows at the precaution.

"I take it, then, that you've found something out. And also that I'm not going to like it."

"Amyas told us that he'd seen one of the sorcerers who attacked his village wearing a wooden medallion. He drew us a picture of the image carved into it…" He withdrew a rolled up piece of parchment from his sleeve, unfurling it and laying it on the table so that the Prince could see it. "This…"

Arthur cast his eyes over it before turning his face once again towards his friend.

"What of it?"

"The diagram is made up of three components. The first is the tree- it represents the rowan tree which apparently grows in the centre of the Isle of the blessed."

"The place where you killed Nimueh?"

Merlin paused for a second, leaving Arthur wishing that he hadn't mentioned that particular incident. The warlock still felt guilty for giving into his anger and grief at that time. Fortunately, the young man shook it off quickly. They had more important things to worry about.

"Yes. The third component is made up of these circles- they represent the medallions themselves. Or rather, the people wearing them."

"And the second? I'm guessing that's those lines?"

A nod.

"Yes. They represent energy. Magic."

The Prince frowned. "So what does it mean?"

Merlin took a deep breath, looking down once again towards the diagram. "It means… that we're in trouble. The medallions act as a conduit for the magical energy which flows around the rowan tree. The description I found says that if a sorcerer powerful enough lends that energy direction, they can channel the power to those wearing the medallions. It could effectively increase the strength of their spells _tenfold_."

Arthur stared at him, wide-eyed.

"But the report yesterday said that there were over fifty sorcerers in that one group. If four villages were attacked at once, then that means-"

"That there are likely to be over two hundred sorcerers." Merlin finished for him. "If each one wears a medallion, then the group as a whole wields enough power for more than two _thousand_ magic users."

There was silence as the Prince processed this information.

"There's no way my Knights can fight against the power of two thousand sorcerers… Our entire army would be torn apart…" He stared at his friend, desperation in his eyes. "Is there nothing you can do?"

"I could try and get to the Isle of the blessed- to see if I could defeat the sorcerer casting the main spell- but there's no guarantee that I'd be able to get there on time."

"Then what _can_ we do?" Arthur was shouting now. Merlin knew how he felt- the Prince had always hated it when things were out of his control. To be so powerless _now_, when Camelot was in such need, must be practically tearing him apart.

"I'm working on it. I'll continue looking for as long as it takes. Don't worry- I'll find something. I promise. The important thing is that you don't give up hope- you cannot hope to lead your men well if you believe the battle to be lost before it's even begun. Now, I suggest you go and tell your father and the others about the medallions. At least that way they'll have some warning about what they'll be facing. They'll be prepared."

There were another few moments of silence before Arthur slowly nodded.

"You're right. I'll go right away. You get straight back to Gaius' chambers and find some way to break that spell."

Merlin nodded, shooting the Prince an attempt at one of his signature grins. "Leave it to me." He was half way to the door when the Prince called his name, forcing him to turn back. "What?"

"Just… Good luck."

He smiled.

"You too."

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**Dun-dun-DUNNN!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Today, I'll start by telling you a story. A few months ago, my sister and I obtained finger lights. Hers was blue, mine red. Together with them we made up the world's greatest crime-fighting duo. And now my sister's blue light has passed away :'( So we're holding a memorial service later on in it's memory. Any words of commiseration would be welcome. (And no, this is not just a desperate plea for even more reviews- it's the honest-to-God truth. *sobs*)**

**Anyway, that's enough sad news for now. On to the next chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 6**

Arthur stood on the battlements, looking out in the direction from which he knew the sorcerers would be arriving. Below in the square, the people of the lower town made their way towards the protection the castle would offer them.

Mentally, he ran through a list to make sure he had completed everything he needed to. The people were being moved to safety. A hospital had been set up in the great hall for the injuries which were likely to occur. Both his father and his Knights had been forewarned of the extra powers the medallions would give to their foes, and strategies had been formed to try and give them the best advantage possible in the situation. He and his men were ready for battle, most of them waiting in position outside the city walls. And Merlin… Merlin was with Gaius, trying to find a way to counteract the medallions' strength.

His mind flitted once again to what the warlock had told him that morning- that a powerful sorcerer would need to be on the Isle of the blessed to cast the spell. There was only one he knew of, apart from Merlin himself, who had the power to wield such magic. Morgause. Was this her doing? Or was it the work of some other, unknown, foe?

He shook his head to clear his mind of the matter. They had no way of knowing, and not enough time to find out. Therefore, it was meaningless for him to worry about it.

But still his traitorous thoughts kept going back to it. _Co `uld_ it be Morgause? If it was, then did Morgana know what she was doing? Did she condone it? Surely not- Morgana was misguided, not evil. She would never condone the destruction of so many innocent lives.

Or would she? She had, however unwittingly, played a part in the near destruction of Camelot just last month. How much had Morgause told her since then? How much had the woman he saw as a sister changed in that time? He had no way of knowing. And that scared him.

It was whilst he was considering this that a small, dark line appeared on the horizon, slowly taking the more recognisable shape of hundreds of men.

The sorcerers.

He immediately turned on his heel, sprinting back into the castle. Telling the first guard he came across to sound the warning bell, Arthur hurried down to join the Knights chosen to help lead the attack as they gathered in the courtyard. A few quick words later and the group mounted their horses, riding off to join the army.

The enemy's numbers may be small, but this would be one of the toughest battles Camelot's army had ever fought.

* * *

"Here!"

Gaius looked up at his ward's exclamation, joining the boy where he sat at the other end of the table. Amyas lay asleep on the bed, unaware of the conversation the pair were having. Books lay strewn across the table, evidence of the mad search the two had committed themselves to throughout the morning.

"You found something?"

"I think so."

Gaius raised a brow apprehensively. There was something in Merlin's tone which the old man didn't like. It was a tone he only heard when the boy was considering something entirely reckless- something which may well result in his death.

The Physician's suspicions were confirmed when he read the page over his ward's shoulder.

"Merlin you can't do this! It's far too dangerous!"

"I know it's difficult-"

"It's not just difficult Merlin! Aside from being an extremely complex spell, you do realise what using this will mean?"

"Of course I do!" Merlin looked at him, fear and desperation in his eyes. "But what choice do I have Gaius? It's the only thing we've found all morning which could give us any chance of beating those sorcerers."

Gaius froze. Just for a moment. And when he spoke again, he couldn't quite prevent the quaver in his voice.

"We still have time. We'll continue searching." He walked back over to his previous seat, pulling yet another tome towards himself.

"Gaius-"

"No Merlin. We'll find something else."

The young man looked at him in silence for a few seconds, before giving a small nod and setting the book aside. It did not, however, escape the Physician's notice that he marked the spell's page before he did so.

Ten minutes of searching later, the warning bells began to ring. The sign that the sorcerers had been spotted. The pair barely looked up- they still had a few minutes. There was still time.

Finally, and with a regretful look towards his mentor, Merlin put aside his latest book, before pulling over the one he had discarded earlier and flicking through to the marked page.

"Merlin no-"

"I have no choice!" Merlin looked at him. And that same old look of determination was once again on his face. There was no way he would be stopped now. "We tried Gaius. But there's no more time, and you know it. You're needed at the hospital- people are going to be wondering where you are. And I have to go. This is our only option."

Gaius tried to protest, but he knew that it was futile. Merlin just ignored him, committing the spell to memory and rushing out of the room with just one last glance at his mentor.

And Gaius was, once again, left behind. With only the faintest of hopes that his ward would escape this battle unscathed. Or even alive.

It was with a heavy heart that he picked up his bag and headed for the great hall. He had his own duty to fulfil.

* * *

The battle raged.

Every few seconds, yet another man would be dragged from the field, pulled away from the chaos and back towards the city for treatment.

Arthur was panting heavily, sweat streaming from his brow. This was hopeless- his men were being _massacred_ and so far they hadn't even managed to get _close_ to the enemy- the fires and blasts of pressure pushing them back as soon as they started to draw near. Even their arrows had proved useless.

Sir Leon ran up to him, the older man in a similar state of disarray.

"What should we do sire? We've exhausted most of our strategies, and we haven't even landed a single scratch."

"I don't know. I-" He stared around at the destruction. Where was Merlin? Had he failed? Had he been unable to find any way to break the spell?

"Sire?"

Arthur blinked, blocking the questions from his mind. Now was not the time for this. He had to focus. He had to appear strong.

"Tell Mordon that I want him to lead his group in another charge. If anyone can withstand once of those attacks, it's him. The rest of us will span out into three sections- one on either side, and another backing up Mordon and his men. I'll lead that one. You lead the left, and Casmir can take charge of those on the right. If we can divert their attention for long enough, some of us may be able to break through."

Leon gave a curt nod, then ran off through the crowd of men, shouting orders as he went. Arthur ran in the other direction, organising his men into groups and trying to give them words of encouragement.

Once everyone was in position, he yelled to Sir Mordon to begin the charge. Another minute, and the Prince's voice echoed across the battlefield again.

"NOW!"

As one, the remaining three groups burst forward to their comrade's aid. But it was futile. No matter how hard they tried to dodge, there was simply not enough room to manoeuvre away from the blasts which were sent their way.

Arthur barely had time to register a huge fireball flying in his direction before someone slammed him out of the way, the Knight in question bursting into flame himself. The young Prince just managed to catch a glimpse of the man's agonised face while it was still recognisable. It was Sir Oliver- a young Knight with undying loyalty he had worked with on several occasions in the past.

An arm pulled him back through the tide of men, out of the way of yet another attack. Within a few seconds he found himself at the back of the army, staring out at the carnage.

He drew in a deep steadying breath. He was just about to run back into the battle when a he heard a voice yelling from somewhere behind him. A voice he recognised.

"Arthur!"

He turned and sprinted back towards the source.

"Merlin!"

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**I bet you thought I'd be telling you how they would try to beat those medallions today, didn't you. Well tough. I'm _far_ too evil for that!**

**Review?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks once again for all the reviews guys- they really make my day. The latest chapters have been proving quite tough to write, and all you comments have helped to spur me on, as well as all of those lovely e-mails telling me that people have alerted or even favourited this story. Thank you all soooooooo much! Here's today's chapter for you :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin (However awesome that would be...)**

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**Chapter 7**

Merlin ran out of the city gates as fast as he could, heading towards the battle just in time to see a familiar blond haired man pulled from the fray.

"Arthur!"

The Prince span around at his yell, immediately sprinting towards him.

"Merlin!"

The two met half-way, the elder of them breathing hard as he spoke.

"What is it? Did you find something? Can you stop the medallions' power?"

Merlin shook his head. "No. Not quite. I couldn't find a way to stop the magic's flow without physically going to the caster, but I did manage to find something which could help."

"What is it?"

"Like I said, I can't break the magic's flow. But I can divert it- point it in another direction." Merlin could see the Prince's confusion. He needed to make sure Arthur understood what he meant. And also understood that this was their only option. No matter what it cost.

He took a deep breath.

"I can change the power's direction once it exits the medallions. In other words, any spells cast by someone wielding one of them will be sent in a different direction…"

"Where will they be sent?"

Merlin paused before answering.

"They'll be sent towards me."

Arthur blinked heavily, staring at his manservant like he had just grown another arm.

"Are you crazy? What do you mean they'll be-"

"Exactly what I said," interrupted Merlin. "The spells will be sent towards me. As long as you get your men to leave enough space around me, I can try and deflect them so that they don't harm anyone. Without the sorcerers having any control over where they send their magic, you'll be free to rush in without fear. They'll have no choice but to either fight back with regular weapons or surrender. Even if they realise what it is I'm doing, which is unlikely, they'd only be able to get rid of the medallions and fight back at their normal strength. They could still prove difficult like that, but it won't be impossible for you to defeat them."

Arthur was staring at him like he couldn't understand a word coming from the warlock's mouth.

"Merlin- do you realise what you're saying? If you do this, it won't just be me. The _entire_ _army_ will see you using magic."

"I know."

"Merlin my father will be told about everything that happens here today- he may well be keeping an eye out from the castle. He _is_ going to find out if you do this."

"I know."

"Merlin- if you do this, there's no going back. If you do this, chances are my father will have you executed!"

"I know!" Merlin practically glared at Arthur. He was terrified enough already. He'd been trying his hardest not to focus on that particular piece of information. "Do you honestly believe I didn't think of that? I don't need you to tell me!"

"Then why?"

"Because this is our only chance Arthur! If I don't do this, then we'll lose!" Merlin could see the truth of his words beginning to sink in. "Arthur, they have killed so many innocent people. I can't just stand by and watch them destroy everything and every_one_ I care about."

"But-"

"Arthur please." Merlin looked his friend straight in the eye. He could almost see every moment of Arthur's internal struggle. But it was either Merlin or Camelot. And the young warlock was not about to let him make the wrong decision. "This is our only option. You know it is."

A few seconds passed, the two of them silent. Finally Arthur gave a single nod, his gaze dropping.

Merlin took control.

"I need you to get everyone to leave me as big a space as possible- I can try and deflect the attacks from actually hitting me, but against so much magic at once I'll have very little control over where I send it. That means I won't be able to attack in return- you'll have to do that."

Another nod. There was an awkward pause, neither man able to think of the right words. Eventually, Arthur looked his friend in the face. His expression was so anguished that Merlin couldn't take it. The strength he had forced himself to cling to so far slipped away from him, and tears began to prick at his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really am."

And that was it. Not another word was passed between them. Instead, Arthur ran back towards the fray, barking orders that his men withdraw and move as far to the sides as they could. Merlin simply stood where he was, marvelling at how quickly the Prince's orders were heard and obeyed. He had no doubt in his mind that Arthur would be a brilliant king.

* * *

It was a surprisingly short time later that found the army split into two sections- both as far from the young manservant as possible.

The barrage of magical attacks had temporarily ceased, the sorcerers instead staring in bemused amazement. Most could hardly believe their eyes. The renowned Arthur Pendragon, crowned Prince of the mighty kingdom of Camelot, was forcing his men to stand to stand as far to the side of the battlefield as was feasible with so many people. This was ridiculous- the sorcerers had known they were winning, but was the Prince just giving up? Or was this some strange new strategy- was he trying to get them to come forward so that his army could surround them? If so, it would never work. With the power the medallions gave them, it didn't matter what strategy Prince Arthur used- his army would be annihilated.

Then they noticed the young servant boy standing alone in the centre of the battlefield. And their amusement only grew.

* * *

The sorcerers' confusion was mirrored in the expressions and words of every member of the army. Had their Prince gone mad? What was he thinking? And why was his manservant the only one allowed to remain on the field of battle?

Sirs Leon and Mordon had found each other, and were now making their way towards their Prince, sure that there must be some form of explanation for this seemingly irrational behaviour. Leon was the first to speak once they reached him.

"Sire?"

Arthur faced him, but only momentarily. "What is it?"

"What is going on sire? Why have you ordered a retreat?"

"I haven't"

The two knights shared a confused look, Mordon venturing forward to speak next.

"But sire-"

"This is not a retreat. I merely want to keep a safe distance until I can see how much room we'll have to manoeuvre."

"Sire?"

Arthur's voice was rough. Strained. "You'll see soon enough."

"But Arthur," insisted Sir Leon, "we _had_ room to manoeuvre before. What is going on? And why on earth is Merlin standing out there?"

Arthur looked at the two of them, his expression guarded, his jaw tight.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course sire."

"You believe in my judgement?"

"Yes."

"Then trust me now. And spread the word among the men- I want them ready to move at my command."

The two of them bowed, Mordon departing once again into the crowd of men while Leon ran as fast as he could around behind Merlin and towards those on the other side of the field. Arthur's orders were spread within moments, the entire army waiting with baited breath for the moment their Prince's plan would be revealed.

* * *

Arthur found himself hardly able to look at Merlin, his gaze instead finding it's way around every other part of the battlefield- anywhere but towards his friend. He knew that what Merlin had said was true. He knew that this was their only option. And he, like Merlin, was determined not to allow these sorcerers to cause any more innocent deaths while he had breath in his body.

He knew this.

So why did it hurt so much?

Every time his wandering gaze flickered to his manservant, he couldn't hold back the horrendous feeling that he was betraying Merlin. When, just a fortnight or so ago, he had found out all that Merlin had done for him- for Camelot- and all that he had suffered during his years in the city, Arthur had made a vow to himself. That he would spend the rest of his life repaying the clumsy oaf. That he would make up for everything Merlin had been through. For all he had sacrificed.

And now, such a short time later, he was turning his back on that vow. It was all he could do not to run to his friend- force him to go back to the city. To just leave Arthur to try and find a solution.

But it was hopeless, and he knew it.

And so, barely half a minute after his orders had been spread throughout the men, he faced the enemy with determination. This was what Merlin wanted- he had to do it. The sorcerers were stirring now- Arthur could see Alvarr opening his mouth to give the order to attack again.

But Arthur got there first.

"Merlin! NOW!"

* * *

**Eep! *Runs away to hide in a corner* I'm sorry! Please don't kill me! I know I'm evil, but if you kill me then I'll never be able to reveal the rest of my plan!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Phew. So it looks like I managed to survive yesterday, despite the death threats and sinister stroking of machetes :D To show you all just how grateful I am that I'm still alive (at least for now), here's the next chapter. I hope it pleases you :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. Never have. And probably never will :'(**

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**Chapter 8**

Merlin barely even registered the confused expressions on almost every other face around him. After his initial pride at the way Arthur had taken control of the army, he instead focussed his attention inwards, concentrating his entire being on the magic coursing through his veins. This was his only chance- he had to get it right. He steadied his erratic breathing, throwing away all of his prior fear. Knowing that he had to do this right first time if he wanted to protect everyone.

In fact, the first thing the young warlock registered after Arthur's parting was when his friend's voice echoed out once again.

"Merlin! NOW!"

Merlin's eyes snapped open. He was by this point more in tune with his magic than he had ever been- to the extent that when he spoke his voice thundered across the field, to be heard clearly by everyone present. Each word was infused with power to such a degree that everyone-down to the last man- could instinctively understand the weight of the authority they held.

"_Be þæt ríce ic heald ofer drýcræft_-"

Eyes widened. Terror dawned on the faces of soldiers and sorcerers alike.

"-_ic bebod þon á unlybwyrhta dón hér eac útacund fylst béon hwiderryne æt mec_."

As if realising that he had to do something, _anything_, to snap his followers into action, Alvarr barked an order to attack the army with all they had. But Merlin hardly even realised.

"_Onlænan mec cuman sum bécn, sé þæt trendel néadian béon væs_."

The enemy also began to mutter, their chants sending a fireball, at least eight foot in diameter, directly towards where the Prince stood. Merlin could sense Arthur readying himself, in case the warlock couldn't finish casting the spell in time. But Merlin knew he could.

"_Be sé ellencræft sylfum mín cræft_-"

The fireball drew closer. And now there were more- balls of flame, blasts of pressure, miniature tornadoes- all speeding towards the Prince and his men.

"_-þys ic níedbebod!_"

His eyes blazed a brilliant gold, and it was as though time stood still. For just a single second, everything was frozen in place- every single attack.

Merlin could see the flow of magic from the medallions- it swirled around each sorcerer like a tempest, bursting out in hypnotic streams from those who had cast the spells. It surrounded each physical manifestation of the power, guiding the attacks towards their intended target, providing them with paths to follow.

And then those paths shifted, and the next thing anyone knew was that the attacks had changed direction- every single one of them now speeding towards the young man standing alone in the centre of the battlefield.

Identically shocked expression appeared on every face. Every face but two. Because Merlin and Arthur had known this would happen. And they were prepared.

Just in time, Merlin managed to raise an arm up in defence.

"_Gescildan!_"

Another flash of gold, and it was like an invisible barrier had formed around the young man, the attacks instead streaming to either side of the shield, scorching the ground around it. The destruction around him only grew, as the sorcerers tried again and again to direct their attacks towards the soldiers. Merlin gasped as a particularly strong blast almost shattered his defence. It was proving extremely difficult to keep both of his spells intact simultaneously- even more so than he had originally thought. His thoughts turned to Arthur, and he managed to force out just three words.

"Arthur! Go! Now!"

And his efforts were rewarded. While he couldn't hear over the ringing now present in his ears, he just about managed to glimpse the sight of Camelot's soldiers charging forward before the view was obscured by another burst of flame.

* * *

Arthur kept his eyes focussed on the enemy as much as he could, but still they kept darting to his friend. He had known that Merlin was powerful- he had to be if he was destined to become the greatest warlock of all time- but this was beyond belief! The attacks that had been slaughtering his men throughout the entire battle were being cast aside seemingly effortlessly- bouncing and sliding off of Merlin's invisible barrier only to instead leave tremendous gouges in the surrounding earth. It was a truly incredible sight.

It wasn't until he saw the shield waver slightly, and heard the strain in Merlin's voice when he spoke, that Arthur realised just how difficult his friend was finding this.

"Arthur! Go! Now!"

He cursed silently- of course it was difficult- each of the spells the boy was holding back was powerful enough for _ten_ sorcerers. What had he been expecting? For Merlin to be leaping about all over the field? That wasn't how magic worked- he should have known that by now!

He forced his gaze forward again, focussing on the enemy. He had only one task in this, and God help him he was going to do it right. For Merlin. And for the people whom they had sworn to protect.

"CHARGE!"

His men heard his cry, as he had known they would, and the urgency behind it managed to snap his Knights, together with a portion of the regular soldiers, into action. They rushed towards the startled sorcerers, war cries resounding from their lips at an almost deafening volume.

The sorcerers were scared now- it was plain to see. A few tried pointlessly to send more spells into the midst of the oncoming warriors. Still more turned on their heels and fled the field, pursued by soldiers. A few faced their almost inevitable deaths head-on with sword in hand, and Arthur couldn't help but admire their courage. These men were fighting for what they believed in. But they had gone too far. Overridden with anger, they had chosen the wrong path. And there was no longer anything the young Prince could do to save them.

Amidst the constant swirl of parries and thrusts and the clanging of metal, Arthur kept a sharp eye out for Alvarr. At the beginning of the fighting, he had been sure the elder man had been one of those who had decided to fight back, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

The battle was over quickly. The sorcerers who had stayed were strong fighters, but without their magic to rely on they had proved themselves no match for the Knights of Camelot. Their bodies now lay dead on the ground, interspersed with those of some of Arthur's own forces.

The Prince's suspicions about Alvarr's escape were confirmed when, upon surveying the battlefield, he spied the renegade flitting through the forest, on his way to freedom. Arthur was just about to order some men to go after him when something else caught his eye. Merlin.

Something was wrong with Merlin.

* * *

Merlin's vision blurred. He could just about make out that the battle was over. Most of the sorcerers lay dead, and those who had tried to escape were being pursued. There had been no incoming magical attacks for a few minutes now, so the young warlock released his hold on both of his spells. He was exhausted- his actions today having used up more of his power than ever before.

Blinking dazedly, his eyes linked with those of Arthur, the Prince's expression shifting to panic as Merlin swayed on the spot. The next thing he knew, the Prince was darting towards him, leaping over the numerous grooves marking the ground.

But Arthur didn't quite manage to make it across the field in time, and Merlin's knees buckled beneath him. He slammed to the floor, panting heavily. The battle was over. They had won.

Now all Merlin could do was await his fate.

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**For anyone wondering, the huge long spell (which I doubt I got completely right anyway) is old English for "_By the power I hold over magic- / -I order that all spells cast here with external aid be directed to me. / Let me become a beacon, that the circle may be completed. / By the strength of my ability- / -this I command!_" (You have no idea how long it took to translate that.**

**Anyway, as inspired by one of yesterday's reviews, here's a little bit of one of those genius Merlin moments (but between us of course :D). I think it's appropriate.**

**You: We should run you through where you stand.**

**Me: I really wouldn't do _that_ if I were you, because if you do _that_... you will never learn of my plan.**

**You: What plan?**

**Me: Exactly! That's why you can't run me through!**

**I think that says it all- YOU'RE STILL NOT ALLOWED TO KILL ME YET! MWAH HA HA HA HAAAAAA!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, time for the next chapter :) It's a bit shorter I'm afraid, but it ended in the right spot, so I didn't want to force any more in. Hope you like it :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin :'(**

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**Chapter 9**

Merlin knelt on the hard ground, breathing heavily and feeling like he had just sprinted for several miles. But at least the ringing in his ears was fading now, and he could make out Arthur's worried voice as the Prince reached him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Merlin? Are you alright? What happened?"

He smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it'll pass soon enough."

"Good," Arthur joked, "because I really don't fancy dragging a lump like you back to the castle."

"At least I'm less of a lump than you, you clot pole."

The two laughed nervously, petering out when Arthur spoke.

"Merlin?"

Their eyes locked together. "Yes Arthur?"

"Have you noticed something?" There was a barely recognisable shake in the Prince's voice. One that few but Merlin had ever been privilege to hearing.

"What?"

"It's gone quiet."

And as soon as he'd said it, Merlin realised it was true. Up until now he hadn't noticed, but with the ringing now gone he became aware of the fact that there was a distinctive lack of noise surrounding them. In fact, apart from his own breaths, and his conversation with Arthur, he realised that he hadn't heard anyone else make a noise since the battle had ended.

The boys broke their interlocked gazes simultaneously, instead turning their heads away to take in their surroundings.

It was with shock that they saw that every single man left on the field was now staring at the pair of them. Nobody was moving.

It was then that Merlin remembered what came next.

He turned his apprehensive gaze back towards the city, gulping down the lump of fear which was threatening to rise up his throat. He turned to Arthur, noticing as he did that the Prince's face mirrored the same expression of dread he was sure his own features held.

"We better go." It was barely a whisper, but Arthur heard.

"Yeah." He stood, offering his hand to Merlin as he did. "Come on- I'll help you." Merlin took it gladly and Arthur helped him to his feet, before finally addressing his men. Even if his voice was lacking a good portion of it's usual authority. "The battle is over. We have won. You may all return to the city."

It was like a spell had been broken. The men unfroze, and there was a flurry of activity as almost all of them rushed towards the city as fast as they could, sending Merlin wide-eyed glances as they passed. It was only once almost all of them had left that the two friends began to walk. Merlin staggered slightly but didn't fall, due largely to Arthur's supporting arm.

It was only when they were nearing the city gates that the pair became aware that they were being followed. A quick glance out of the corner of their eyes showed it to be Leon. He was keeping his distance, true, but the look on his face made his intentions clear. He was there to ensure that no-one interrupted them on their journey.

The boys were silently thankful. There were things both wanted to say, and while Leon's support was appreciated, they were grateful that he was giving them this time alone to prepare for the ordeal they knew would meet them back at the castle.

They passed a lot of the journey in silence, unable to find the right words to express what they wanted- Merlin especially. He could tell by the guilt he could see in his friend's eyes that Arthur was blaming himself for this. He couldn't take that- he had made the decision himself. It was his choice to do what he had done today. He didn't want Arthur to bear the burden he had created. The problem was how to make Arthur understand that without coming across as some kind of Martyr. They were nearing the entrance to the castle courtyard when he finally made his decision.

Merlin gave Arthur a playful nudge, an attempt at his usual teasing grin spread across his face.

"How many times does that make it now, eh? That I've saved your life?"

A mock affronted expression appeared within moments. "You? Save _my_ life? Don't you get all cocky just because of one _teeny-tiny_ piece of magic _Mer_lin. If you were there with just a sword, you'd have been screeching like the girl you are within seconds."

"Yeah, well better to be a girl than a royal prat."

It was but a shadow of their normal banter, but the tension in the air had cleared considerably. Job done, Merlin could finally muster the courage to sort out a couple of things before they entered into hearing distance of the wrong people. His brow furrowed slightly, and his tone grew serious.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"Can you promise me one thing?" He knew Arthur would probably do it anyway, but he needed to make sure.

"Of course." The Prince's composure was beginning to crack.

"Make sure Gaius doesn't tell Uther he knew. I don't think I could bear it if something happened to him because of me. Not again."

A small nod. "Of course."

"Thanks." He paused, halting momentarily, forcing the Prince to face him. "And Arthur?"

"Yes Merlin?"

"Whatever happens, don't blame yourself. Revealing my magic was _my_ decision, and my decision alone. None of this is your fault."

For the first time in a long time, Merlin saw tears in the Prince's eyes. And for the first time that day, a genuine grin spanned the young warlock's face. Arthur had always said that no man was worth your tears. For the Prince to consider him enough of a friend to be on the verge of going against his own words meant more than anything either of them could have expressed out loud. Through silent consent, they continued their walk. No more words were passed, because they no longer needed to be. And, as they drew near to where they knew the king would likely be waiting for them, Merlin could honestly say that, for those few short moments, he was content.


	10. Chapter 10

**Well, here's the next chapter for you. I'm going to give you a bit of forewarning now, as I don't want to ruin any impact the end of this chapter may have, but I may not be able to update tomorrow. I'll be heading back to Uni, so almost the entire day will be spent in the car, and I won't be able to type. We'll see how it goes, but the next update probably won't be until Tuesday I'm afraid :(**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 10**

Leon followed the two young men silently. While his external composure was calm, inside the Knight was still reeling in shock at the days occurrences. But there was also a part of him which was strangely accepting of it all. Merlin had always proven to be somewhat of a riddle to him, and he knew that many of his fellow Knights felt the same way. At first glance, the boy appeared no more than a simple peasant- the clumsy fool who was constantly causing some sort of disturbance. But there was more than that. His cheerful demeanour made him instantly likable- Leon had seen identical smiles of fondness appear on the faces of townspeople and nobles alike whenever the dark-haired boy staggered past on whatever errand was his current mission. Merlin himself didn't seem to realise it, but his cheerfulness, coupled with his loyalty towards the Prince, had earned him many silent admirers amongst the court. And still there was more. Though rare, and though most people never witnessed it, there were times when Leon could have sworn he sensed something hidden beneath the foolish exterior- a kind of wisdom rarely found in any but a few of the elderly. A look in the young boy's eye which suggested that he knew more about the secrets of the world than even some of the country's leading scholars.

And now this.

He continued to watch as the two boys conversed on their way towards the castle. Arthur had changed since Merlin's arrival- even the King had noticed it- but the friendship and respect shown in those few short sentences still shocked him. The strength of it was absolutely phenomenal- the tears in the Prince's eyes were proof of that.

And from then, the two boys shared not a single word more. But Leon had the sense that they were still talking- silent glances, reassuring smiles, the subtle tightening of their grips on each-others shoulders- all spoke more clearly than any words could have done.

As they entered the castle, Leon could see several people turning to stare at the pair. From the whispers that reached his ears, the Knight could tell what must have happened. Evidently, the men who had returned from the battlefield had wasted no time in spreading the word about what had really happened out there.

But the two friends walking in front of him paid the people no heed. In fact, it looked like they didn't even realise. They were too focussed on hearing the opinion of the only man who mattered in this case- too focussed on finding out the King's judgement.

They neared the council chambers, where the King had been positioned throughout the battle. And as they reached the doors, Leon began to notice a slight change in the Prince's demeanour. It was subtle- there was a slight straightening of his back and he squared his shoulders by just a fraction- but it was there, and it could only mean one thing. Leon smiled at the thought. Arthur was preparing to fight for his friend's life.

* * *

Arthur was incredibly glad when they reached the doors to the council chambers that he had had time to prepare. He had managed to rid himself of those embarrassing tears along the way- still hardly believing that he had _actually_ almost _cried_- so with the aid of a few deep breaths he was able to regain at least a portion of his usual Princely dignity (or as much dignity as was possible when he had an exhausted warlock to support).

And so it was that, after nodding to the guards (ignoring the fact that they were rather openly gawking at his manservant) to open the door, he entered the room every inch the proud Prince his people had come to know and respect.

It took less than a second for him to realise just how angry his father truly was.

The king's expression when it alighted upon the young servant boy at his son's side was thunderous, the rage in his eyes barely dimming as his gaze shifted to meet that of his son. Nonetheless, both Arthur and Merlin walked to the centre of the hall with heads held high. The tables had been moved to the sides of the room so that messengers would have had clear access to their King during the course of the battle, and it was in this empty space that the two now stood. It was faint, but Arthur could feel his friend trembling slightly. It was understandable- there were so many people gathered at the edges of the room, staring openly at the pair, that even _Arthur_ was finding it hard not to quake under their scrutinizing gazes.

But still his father's gaze was the worst of the lot. As the young Prince stared defiantly back at him, he could almost hear the words he knew his father must be dying to speak- My own son, harbouring a sorcerer. I've never been so disappointed.

And for the first time in Arthur's life, he didn't care. His father was disappointed in him, and he _didn't care_.

Within seconds of them being there, the King's eyes had shifted to Merlin.

"You, boy. I have heard of the events of today's battle. Do you admit to using magic?"

"Yes." _Not that there would have been any use in denying it_.

"You admit to committing treason against your King?"

"No."

There were audible gasps around the room. Arthur could well imagine their thoughts- something along the lines of '_Was the boy mad? What was he doing? He had just admitted to sorcery- of course it was treason!_' He allowed a small smile to flit across his face. He knew what Merlin meant. And he completely agreed.

The King was practically gob smacked.

"You deny treason?"

"I do."

"On what grounds?"

Merlin looked straight back at him. He pushed himself off of Arthur's shoulder, swaying slightly but managing to stay upright. His gaze was unwavering.

"On the grounds, my lord, that I most likely saved the lives of every person in this room, including your own. While I may have used what you would deem an unlawful method, I do not think that saving your life should be classed as treason."

Arthur couldn't help but feel proud. When he had first met Merlin, he had dubbed him an idiot. But as time passed, he had begun to see the incredible bravery the young servant possessed. Merlin would throw himself into harms way without hesitation to protect someone he cared about, and despite always calling him a girl Arthur had long harboured a secret belief that Merlin may well be one of the bravest people he had ever met. That belief had only strengthened when he found out about the young warlock's magic. And now, seeing the man beside him standing up and telling the whole court that he was not ashamed of who he was or what he had done, the Prince could hardly believe just how deep Merlin's courage ran.

And what's more, judging by the slightly awed expressions scattered around the room, everyone else could finally see it too.

Everyone, it seemed, but Uther. The King simply studied Merlin for a few seconds, before gesturing for two guards to come forward.

"Arrest him."


	11. Chapter 11

**Al-righty then :) *Switches to pirate accent, for some unknown reason* Here be the next chapter that y'all been waitin' fer. Many thanks fer all yer reviews ('specially to the people I could'na reply ta). *Shakes head, switching back to normal voice* Sorry for that... Don't really know why I did that...**

**Anyway, I hope you like this chapter too. Remember- reviews make for an enthusiastic author (Hint, hint)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin *sigh***

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**Chapter 11**

"Arrest him."

The King's order resounded around the room. The two chosen guards stepped forward, Merlin's head lowered a fraction, and Arthur finally decided that this had gone too far. He stepped protectively in front of Merlin.

"No."

The guards froze in place, looking between their Prince and their King as though uncertain of what to do. Uther just glared at his son.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"I will not let you arrest him."

"Arthur-"

"Father, please. You cannot make a decision on his life just because he has magic. At least let me speak before you make your judgement."

The King was not a foolish man. He, and everyone else in the room, could see the determined set to the Prince's jaw. Arthur was not going to let Merlin even be removed from his presence without first doing his utmost to defend the young manservant's actions. Uther had no choice but to reluctantly agree.

"Very well. But I make no promises."

Arthur nodded, a quick burst of relief running through his body. He had not even expected his father to allow him to speak. Did this mean that he would be willing to listen to reason?

"Thank you sire." He raised his voice, making sure that everyone in the room would be able to hear him clearly. "As you all know, today my servant, Merlin, used magic to help our army to defeat a foe who had, until that point, been overwhelming us with ease. An enemy responsible not only for the deaths of many of my men today, but also for the slaughter of hundreds of innocents in the past few days. What you do not know, is that this is not the first time Merlin has protected Camelot.

"When my father first appointed Merlin as my manservant, it was because he had saved my life from the revenge of a grieving mother. You are also all aware that he drank poison to protect me, very nearly dying in the process. And you also know that, just last month, he rode out with myself and my Knights to face the Great Dragon who terrorized our city." _Best not to mention that he was the one responsible for the Dragon's release._

"What you did not know, and which I myself did not find out until just two weeks ago, is that it was not I who defeated the Dragon. The Dragonlord we set off to find was Merlin's father. He died on the journey back to Camelot- a grief which my servant suffered through alone- and through his death passed his powers as a Dragonlord on to his son. Yes- it was Merlin who freed us from the Dragon's reign of terror. And yet he did not seek the glory people believe that all those who use magic crave- he instead led me to believe that I had dealt the Dragon a mortal blow.

"And that is not all."

Arthur could see the widened eyes around the room- the obvious looks of shocked disbelief on the nobles' faces. If the situation wasn't so serious he would have laughed. If they were like this after just that one piece of news, wait until they heard the rest.

"He has, on numerous occasions, secretly used his magic to defend me from the attacks of bandits. He killed the sorceress Nimueh, who poisoned our waters. He defeated Sigan the day the Gargoyles attacked. He uncovered the plots of the witch finder and the troll, Lady Catrina. He also saved the life of my father, when Edwin Muirden infiltrated the court and tried to enact his revenge for the deaths of his parents during the Purge. And still there is more."

Arthur cast an eye over his father's face. The King had reacted slightly to Edwin's name, obviously remembering the feeling of death coming ever closer and yet being powerless to even move to try and stop it. Maybe there was hope for Merlin's life yet.

"He was willing to trade his life for mine when I was bitten by the Questing Beast, journeying to the Isle of the blessed to find the only cure. It was only through his talent with magic that he survived.

"And more recently, when we returned from Idirsholas to find the entire city asleep, it was Merlin who discovered the source of the magic. It was he who broke Morgause's spell." Arthur could see Merlin twitch slightly at the memory. For a small moment, he considered telling the court that Morgana had been the vessel. But that was another story entirely, and if Uther learned that Merlin had poisoned his ward, the young warlock had even less hope of surviving.

"Without him, I would be dead countless times over. My father would have lost his life. Camelot would have fallen to sorcerers years ago. He sought no praise for his efforts, he still doesn't, but without Merlin's efforts since his arrival here, we would not be standing here today."

Arthur turned to face his father directly. These last few sentences would be important. He needed to make sure Uther understood.

"Magic is not evil father. It is a tool, to be wielded however the user decides. It is not always a choice either. Some people develop magic without ever being taught- Merlin has been able to use it instinctively since the day he was born. Magic does not corrupt. If it did, would he have risked his life so many times to save this Kingdom? Would he have protected the very people who could have him sentenced to death simply for being born the way he was? Would he have returned here today, prepared to accept whatever sentence you would give him? Does he really deserve to die?"

His speech over, Arthur bowed his head and took a step back. He barely even realised that he was holding his breath until Merlin whispered quietly into his ear.

"Breathe you prat."

The two boys stood together, waiting expectantly for Uther's judgement. After several moments of deep consideration, the King spoke.

"The boy will die. Arrest him."

"No!"

Without thinking, Arthur leapt forward. He hadn't felt this furious since he had been told Morgause's twisted version of the truth behind his birth.

"Restrain my son."

Several guards darted forwards, two grabbing Arthur by the arms, two standing nervously by Merlin as though afraid to actually touch him. If he really was that powerful, they weren't sure what might happen to them. But Merlin just stood there, the only sorrow he showed contained to his eyes.

Arthur, on the other hand, was not about to give up. He was one step closer to screaming at the King.

"What are you doing? Do you not understand what I just told you? In what way does he deserve to die?"

"He is a sorcerer Arthur! I don't know why he chose to do what he did this morning, but I daresay he had some sort of plan behind it!"

"And what about the rest? Why would he spend two years _saving_ us?"

"And who told you about all of that, Arthur? Who told you about all of those things he apparently did?"

"Merlin did."

"When?"

"When I found out about his magic." Arthur was thoroughly confused now- what on earth was his father thinking?

"And has it not once crossed your mind that he might have lied to you? That he made it all up just to escape execution?"

"And did he make up that when I went to collect the Mortaeus flower- when I was about to die in a cave- he sent a ball of light to protect me? To show me the way? Even though he was himself close to death at the time?"

"That was to save his own life" Uther paused, looking directly at his son. "I know sorcerers Arthur- they will try anything to protect themselves."

"If that was so, then why would he expose himself like that in front of the entire army? If all magic-users cared only about themselves, then why would he be here now, willing to accept his fate?"

There was silence for a moment, everyone waiting for the King's reaction. After a few seconds, his expression hardened.

"It is as you said Arthur- he came here willing to accept his fate. His fate is to die at dawn tomorrow. He will be burnt at the stake." He turned his gaze towards the guards. "Take the sorcerer to the dungeons. And lock my son in his chambers- no one is to see either of them without my express permission."

"No! You can't _do this_!"

But Arthur was ignored, the guards instead forcing him out of the room and towards his chambers. Merlin was led towards the dungeons. Four guards now surrounded the young warlock to prevent him from running, but Merlin just walked slowly along, his head bowed. Even if were to try to escape, he was too tired to use much magic now anyway. He would never have made it.

They had failed.

And now Merlin was going to die.


	12. Chapter 12

**Phew. Okay, I think I've got this chapter about as good as I'm going to get it. Thanks so much for all of your lovely support- at this point it's 16 favs, 42 alerts and 55 reviews. Have I ever mentioned how much I love you guys sometimes?**

**Okay- enough soppy stuff. Onto the story!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. Still. *sigh***

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**Chapter 12**

It was a sleepless night for many people in Camelot. Word had spread fast about the Prince's manservant, as well as Uther's decision to have him executed the next day. Nobles and commoners alike spent the night thinking back on their memories of the hapless young boy, trying to keep their imaginations from turning to an image of him screaming in agony as the flames tore wildly at his flesh.

One such person was Gwen. She sat in Gaius' chambers, staring blindly at her own clasped hands. The young maid had barely spoken a word since she had heard the news- just remained in a state of shock. Not for the first time, she had found herself missing her mistress. Morgana would have known what to do. But Morgana wasn't here, and Arthur was confined to his chambers. There had even been several guards posted outside his door. Which meant that it was up to her to try and think of a way to help Merlin.

Feeling a gentle touch on her shoulder, she looked up to see Gaius offering her a cup, her own grief over the situation mirrored on his face.

"Thank you." She accepted the cup gladly, turning to face the old man as he sat himself down opposite her. She gave a quick glance around the room. The survivor- Amyas, was it?- from the attacked village had woken briefly earlier, but he had quickly fallen back into a state of unconsciousness. And there was no-one else in the room. Which meant that she was free to ask what she wanted.

"Did you know, Gaius? That Merlin was a sorcerer?"

He looked at her for a second, and then gave a brief nod. "I did."

"You knew what he was going to do?"

"I did." Guilt was practically streaming from the old man's eyes. "If we had only had more time, I'm sure we would have been able to come up with a safer method for him to stop them, but…"

As the old Physician's voice petered out, Gwen tried to focus her thoughts. She had to be strong. Merlin had saved her life in the past- evidently more than she had known- there had to be _some_ way for them to get him out of this situation. But the frustration and desperation just kept growing.

"I don't understand it Gaius. From what people have been saying, he has to be quite powerful. Is there no way he can… I don't know… make everyone forget? There has to be _something_, surely."

Gaius just shook his head sadly.

"Things, once seen, can not be unseen my dear girl. If they could, then Merlin would have had a lot of an easier job over the past couple of years. He went out there today knowing what would happen. Nevertheless, knowing him, there was nothing anyone could have said which would have been able to stop him."

She had to smile a bit at that. It was just so…Merlin. To go out there without the slightest hesitation and do all that he could to protect everyone, even knowing what the outcome would be. She'd seen him do it so many times in the past that she had just sort of believed that he could find his way out of any tricky situation that came his way. It seemed she had been mistaken.

"There has to be something we can do Gaius- I can't just sit by and watch him die. It just wouldn't be right."

Gaius patted her gently on the shoulder. Rising to his feet, he picked up a small vial and headed towards the door.

"And do something I shall my girl- I plan on visiting Uther right now to see if I can talk him round."

"Gaius- you can't tell him that you knew about Merlin. Everyone thinks that, apart from Arthur, he was acting alone- if Uther found out that you knew, you'd be killed too!"

The old man paused where he was, then gave a slight shake of the head.

"I won't tell him. Merlin made sure I was at the hospital just so that people wouldn't suspect that I was involved. Besides, I have a feeling that if I did tell Uther, then Merlin would come after me himself. He always was the reckless type."

Gwen couldn't quite hold back the short, sad laugh which escaped her lips. It wasn't until after Gaius had left that her determination slipped, and she finally gave in to the now overwhelming feelings of helplessness. Grief took hold, and she felt the tears which had been threatening to fall all day finally escape. Gaius was trying to help in the only way he could. And yet it seemed that there was _nothing_ that _she_ could do.

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Uther stood in his chambers, staring through a window to the newly built Pyre in the square below. He couldn't shake the image of Arthur and his manservant from his mind. He had known for a long time that there was a strange bond between the two- a friendship far beyond the normal realms between master and servant. He had seen it from early on- such as during that one tournament, where a Knight had been using a magic shield. Arthur had believed his servant's word almost unquestioningly. And then again, during the incident where Bayard was believed to have poisoned Arthur's goblet. The boy drank it without complaint, as could only be expected of one of his station. But the real surprise had been how Arthur had reacted. It was one of the first times in the Prince's life that he went against his father's orders. He had risked his own life to save that of a servant- something Uther had been unable to comprehend at the time. It had scared him. This friendship the two were developing was something that may well risk the future of Camelot itself. And so he had done what he deemed necessary. He had decided to let the boy die. Crushed that accursed flower that was the only cure.

But the flower had been smuggled to Gaius regardless. The boy survived, and the bond between the two grew more. And Uther had grown more afraid- for while the boy had thus far simply done as expected of him, Arthur had gone far beyond the line of duty to protect him in return.

But then came that incident with the wraith, when Tristain Dubois came to seek his revenge. The boy had, without any of them knowing, been to have a new sword forged for his master, one which he hoped would serve him better in his fight against the wraith. It was only now that Uther realised that the boy must have magically enchanted the sword- Gaius had told him that it should be impossible to kill the dead- but at the time, all he saw was that the boy also acknowledged, and treasured, the bond he had forged with his master. And Uther had felt relieved.

And what was it Arthur had said? About that incident with the Questing Beast? '_He was willing to trade his life for mine._' The boy had gone somewhere, and upon his return the Prince had been cured. He hadn't been certain about the story Gaius told him about an ancient remedy of sorts, but he had been so thrilled to know that his son had lived that Uther had chosen not to question it. Far better to simply put it down to a miracle.

More recently, there had been that incident with Morgause. Arthur had returned from the 'challenge' infuriated, and had been an inch away from killing his father. But once again that boy had intervened- the voice of reason to Arthur when the Prince would not listen to what the King had tried to say. At the time, Uther had been grateful towards the young servant, even going so far (as laughable as it now seemed) as calling him a trusted ally in the fight against magic. But now? Now he was only confused. The boy was a sorcerer. He had had the chance to see the man who would have him executed die, and yet he had prevented it. Why? It didn't make sense.

And today too. Why had he done it? Why had the boy risked the life he had built here, revealed the secret he had fought so hard to hide? Why had he saved them? He was obviously a powerful sorcerer- he may well have been capable of building so much respect from magic users that he could have ruled them. And yet he had turned against his own kind, prevented them from enacting their revenge. Was what Arthur said true? Had the boy really spent the last two years protecting Camelot from the shadows, doing all he could to ensure the kingdom had a future? Was it really possible that magic could be used to protect?

His musings were interrupted by a faint knock on the door.

"Enter."

It was Gaius, carrying a small vial.

"I have your medicine sire."

Uther took the vial, swallowing the contents in one go. Part of him expected Gaius to just leave, but he was not surprised when the Physician stayed where he was, that same old look on his face that said he had something he wanted to talk to the King about. Understandable really- the sorcerer was his ward after all.

"My lord, I wish to speak with you." The old man paused, obviously uncomfortable. He seemed to be struggling with finding the right words, so Uther decided to prompt him.

"Did you know, Gaius? About the boy? What he was?"

There was a small pause. "No, sire. I did not." His expression suggested otherwise, but Uther decided not to push further. He had stood by when Gaius was almost killed before- he was not willing to do so again. "But I do have some information which you may find interesting. It may even change your mind."

"My mind is made up Gaius. I stand by my decision." He could not show that his resolve was failing. He would _not_ appear weak. "But you may speak nonetheless."

A nod. It was obviously what Gaius had expected him to say.

"My lord, since I found out about Merlin, I have been doing some research."

"And what have you found?"

"The druids, sire. Am I correct in thinking that you are aware that they sometimes speak of prophesies?"

"You are. What of it?"

"Well, my lord. Amongst these prophesies, there lies one about a person known as 'The Once and Future King'- the King foretold to have the power to unite the land of Albion, creating a time of peace and prosperity before then unseen." He paused. "I believe this king to be Arthur."

"And why is that?" As much as the idea of Arthur being such a great King pleased him, Uther could not see how this 'prophesy' related to the current situation. There had to be something more to it.

"Because, sire, the prophesy also tells of one named 'Emrys'- a person born as a creature of magic, destined from birth to become the strongest, most powerful warlock of all time. It is this 'Emrys' who holds the responsibility of protecting the Once and Future King until he takes the throne. The two are described as being 'two sides of the same coin'- incapable of hating each other, their bond would be almost instantaneous, and completely unbreakable."

"And you believe Merlin is Emrys?"

"I do sire."

Uther paused for a while, his gaze once again turning to the Pyre below. But when he spoke again, he made sure his voice was firm. He would give Gaius no false hope.

"Be that as it may Gaius, the boy has broken the laws of Camelot. The old religion holds no sway in my kingdom- the prophesies of the druids mean nothing. I will not spare the boy simply because of your suspicions."

"Sire, if you would just consider-"

"If that is all you have to say, Gaius, then you may leave."

For a moment, it looked like Gaius would disobey him. But go he did. His eyes grew hard, his jaw tightened, and his bow was stiff, but he left.

And Uther was left once again with his uneasy thoughts.

For while he would never have been able to show it whilst Gaius was in the room, there were some undeniable truths in the old Physician's words. The bond he spoke of reminded him strongly of the one he had seen between Arthur and his servant. Gaius was rarely wrong about such things- could it really be possible that they were the pair spoken of in the prophesy? If so, then the boy was even more powerful than he had imagined. _The most powerful warlock of all time_. Was it actually possible?

But even so he couldn't allow it. Before the purge, when magic had been practised freely, there had been only chaos. By wiping out those who practised magic, peace had come to the kingdom. If he let the boy live- if Arthur, when he became king, chose to return magic to the kingdom- then it was entirely possible that the darkness of the past would return with it. There was no guarantee that Arthur and Merlin were the pair from the prophesy. And if they weren't, and he still took that risk, then it would only lead to despair.

No. Uther couldn't let that happen. He still wasn't sure why the boy had done what he had, but to spare his life would mean that the people may turn back to magic whenever they felt threatened. His great kingdom could end up mired in chaos once more.

It was not a risk he was willing to take.

The boy had to die.

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**You see- it's not that Uther's _bad_. He thinks of the kingdom. It's just that he's a stubborn, misguided, ignorant blockhead whenever it comes to anything to do with magic. Tch. Will he never learn?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thanks once again for all the reviews guys (60 now- eep!). Here's the next chapter for you. It's a bit short I'm afraid, but I promise that tomorrow holds what everybody has been waiting patiently for :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 13**

When Uther woke the following morning, it was with great shock that he realised that his doubts about the day had returned in full. Just what was it about that boy that made this execution seem so different to the hundreds before it? It couldn't be that he was still being bothered by the idea of that prophecy, could it? But no, it couldn't be. Because even if the prophecy were true- if Merlin's purpose here was to protect Arthur- then surely the Knights could do that just as well? Arthur was quite capable of becoming this 'Once and Future King' _without_ the aid of magic. He had, after all, proven himself increasingly worthy of the throne over the course of the past few years.

Ignoring the small voice which told him that Arthur had only really begun to become a true ruler after Merlin had appeared at his side, Uther hurried to shake all doubts from his mind. This was an important day. The people could not see him waver, or everything he had worked towards for over twenty years would be for nought.

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Arthur sat slumped against the door of his chambers, staring unseeingly out at the mess that was now his room. He had forced himself to watch the Pyre being built the previous day, never once turning his face away. It was part of his punishment for letting Merlin down- for not finding a way to save his best friend from the death which awaited him.

He had spent a good portion of the night pacing his chambers, going through plan after plan in his head about how to help Merlin escape. But what was the point when he had no way of carrying any of them out? He had tried to force his way out of the room, but the door was locked, and he knew for a fact that there were several guards outside- his father had even posted some in the square below his window, for fear that his son would once again try to escape that way. Not that there was any point, as it had only been thanks to Merlin that that had worked before.

To be honest, Arthur couldn't remember a time he had ever felt so helplessly frustrated. Even when Guinevere had been held captive by Hengist, there was always the possibility that she was still alive. And with Merlin there beside him, there was no way he would have been able to give up hope on that- the idiot would never have let him.

But Merlin wasn't here now. He couldn't cheer the Prince up with his clumsy antics or idle prattle, because it was Merlin whose life was now at stake. Arthur could remember the conversation they had had in Ealdor- Merlin telling him that he had left the village because he didn't fit in any more. The boy had spent his entire life feeling like an outcast, being inherently different to everyone around him and yet having no control over that fact. After all that, it just didn't feel right- for the young warlock to go through his life feeling that way, and then spend the past couple of years saving people's lives so many times, only to be executed for it. To be killed just because of the way he was born.

At some point in the night, Arthur had found himself giving up. His frustration rising over this newfound feeling of uselessness, he had ended up giving himself over to his turmoil. Ordinarily, he would have taken his anger out on the dummies in the practice field. Instead, he took it out on his chambers. His knuckle was bloody from hitting the wall, and the floor was littered with any and all of the heavy objects he could lay his hands on. But this had only led to bittersweet thoughts- thoughts of the expression which would have been on Merlin's face if he had seen the state the room was in, quickly quashed by the returning realisation that Arthur would never see that look on his friend's face again.

Funnily enough, the guards had not once opened the door to enquire as to the source of the noise, most likely realising that their Prince would not want to be interrupted. In fact, the only time the door was opened was when a tray of food was pushed through- the servant carrying it not even being allowed to enter the Prince's chambers to give it to him. Arthur hadn't touched it- hadn't felt he deserved it. Because, as far as he was concerned, he didn't. Until recently he had never questioned his father's laws over magic. Maybe if he had then the King would not have been so blind upon hearing what he had to say the previous day. And now Merlin was going to die for it.

As the sun's rays hit the window, he jerked his face up. Not long now, and Merlin would be being led out to the courtyard, like a common criminal. Not long now, and Merlin would face the flames.

Not long now, and Merlin would burn to death.

Forcing himself out of his stupor, Arthur made his way over to the window. This would be the beginning of his final punishment. Even after all Merlin had done, Arthur had failed to protect him. The least he could do was watch his friend's final moments. He would make absolutely certain not to look away for a single second- to engrave every instant into his memory and carry that burden forward in his own life.

He owed Merlin that much at least.

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***Puppy-dog eyes* Review? **


	14. Chapter 14

**Hm. For once, I have no idea what to say...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 14**

Funnily enough, Merlin had been one of the few people who slept reasonably well. He had been too exhausted to do otherwise. But now, as he woke, the young warlock could feel the familiar thrum of his magic flowing through his body, filling him with energy. As dawn's first rays of light hit his face, he stood and looked through the bars of his cell, staring out at the Pyre. A quick burst of panic ran through him, and for a moment he considered escaping.

But then he turned and saw the large group of guards outside his cell.

It wasn't, he realised, a matter of whether or not he _could_ escape. He knew that he was capable of getting out of here. He no longer had to hide his magic. He didn't have to hold back any more. He could probably escape quite easily.

But how many people would be hurt? How many would be punished? How many innocent people would suffer because he had not been willing to face the consequences of his actions? He had been through so much to protect the people of Camelot- did he really want to inflict more suffering on them? The answer was obvious. No.

And besides, what would he do after escaping? Where would he go? Would he spend his life like his father had, hiding in a cave, too afraid to be near anyone in case he got them hurt?

No, he would go out there and face it. This was the path he can chosen. He had always known that it could end like this, although he had obviously hoped otherwise. But maybe this was part of his destiny as well? Who knows? He was scared- he'd admit it to anyone who asked- but he would go out there and show them that he didn't regret his decision.

And so it was that, when the guards opened the door of his cell, he shrugged off their hands, and shook his head.

"It's fine. I won't run."

And with that, he himself led the way out of the dungeons and towards the square. The bells rang out as they walked, and Merlin knew that it meant that people would be gathering around the Pyre, waiting to see the sorcerer burn. Waiting to see him die. The young warlock stumbled slightly at the thought, but he kept going.

But once he reached the exit out to the courtyard, once he saw people turn their faces towards him, he couldn't stop himself from freezing on the spot. Only a prod from one of the guards managed to jolt him back to his senses. Because, unlike what he had pictured in his dreams, there were no jeering faces. No accusing glances. No hateful stares. He only saw pity, sadness, and even regret.

Gulping down the mixed emotions which suddenly rose in his chest, he continued moving. Within the space of a minute he had reached the towering wooden structure and climbed the steps to where he would meet his demise. Another few seconds, and his hands had been secured around the pole at his back.

The sound of trumpets marked the King's arrival, and he looked up at the balcony just in time to see Uther walk forward, looking around at the people in the square before he began his speech.

"This man, Merlin, has admitted to the use of sorcery. There are _no_ circumstances for which this can be deemed acceptable. By the laws of Camelot, he has been found guilty of treason, and for this there is only one punishment. Death." Uther paused, raising his voice slightly. "The sorcerer shall be burned at the stake."

Merlin bowed his head and closed his eyes, preparing for the moment the torch-barer would step forward. But the sound of movement caught his ear, and his eyes slammed open once again.

There, slightly to his left, were Gwen and Gaius, forcing their way to the front of the crowd. The surge of panic from earlier rose in his throat once again. Because they shouldn't be here. They shouldn't have to witness this. He didn't want them to see him die. But there they were, both with tears in their eyes, both staring at him like they had failed him in some way. And they weren't the only ones. Looking around, he could see that there was barely a dry eye in the square. To the right was old Mary from the kitchens. And towards the back was Morris, one of Arthur's previous servants. There were so many people here he recognised- both from the town and from the castle itself. The entire square was packed with them. The were even several nobles. And all of them were staring at him, terrified. But not, like he had expected, terrified _of _him. No. They were terrified _for_ him. None of them wanted this to happen.

And he couldn't bear it.

Unable to face all of those anguished faces, Merlin tore his gaze away from the people below him and looked towards the stairs on the other side of the courtyard, below where Uther stood.

His eyes widened.

For there, on the stairs, was a group of at least fifteen Knights. He hadn't noticed them so far, so focused had he been on everything else. But they were there, plain as day. Leon was in the front, his expression sombre. Merlin had seen that look on the elder Knight's face many times- it was a look he wore when one of his comrades died in front of him. None of the Knights were crying, but he could still sense a wave of sadness coming from them. They didn't have to be here either- Knights were under no obligation to attend an execution.

Which meant that they were here for him.

He was so fixated on them, that he barely even heard the King's voice as it echoed out once again. He didn't notice the torch-barer step forward. Not until a burst of light drew his attention downwards.

The fire moved quickly, rushing towards him at a pace he hadn't expected. The air around him grew warm against his skin, and he could hear the hiss of the flames as they began to devour the wood at his feet. A strangled cry forced his attention outwards again, and he could see Gwen crying, the young maid sobbing almost hysterically into Gaius' shoulder.

_No._ He thought. _Gwen should never have to look like that._

But she wasn't the only one. People all around him were bursting into tears, screaming out.

_It shouldn't be like this._

He had expected to be treated as an outcast. He had wanted to be seen only as a traitor. That way he could be strong. But why? Why did everyone seem so determined to make this so hard for him? He could feel tears pricking at his eyes. He tried to force them back, but it was impossible.

_It wasn't supposed to be this way._

They were supposed to hate him now. He was supposed to be feared. To see all this grief around him only served to break down the wall he had built up. The wall which had been protecting him from his fear. But now that fear was almost overwhelming. He could feel it battering against him, threatening to tear him apart.

His breaths started to come in shallow bursts. It was as though he couldn't breathe. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the cries, to focus on the roaring of the flames. They were closer now, just a few seconds more and they would begin to eat their way through his threadbare boots.

But the flames weren't loud enough- the screams still pierced his eardrums at, to him, an almost deafening level.

_Why is it like this?_

He opening his eyes, forcing himself to look forward. Back to the Knights. They would remain calm, he was sure of it. And that calmness would stem the terror which was about to burst out of him.

And he was right- the Knights _were_ calm. Sombre, and there was fear evident in their eyes, but none of them were crying. And that was all he asked.

He caught Sir Leon's eye. The older man gave him a small, sad smile. As if to reassure Merlin of something, he turned his focus upwards, trying to tell the young warlock that there was one more thing that he should see before he died. So Merlin followed his gaze, turning his eyes towards a familiar window.

And a familiar face.

_No._

The fear was almost choking him now. Because Arthur should never have to look that broken. Arthur should never have to wear that expression. And it was all his fault.

_No. This can't be happening. It shouldn't be like this. No-one was supposed to care so much. No. NO!_

Suddenly, the horror of it all was too much. He had only wanted to save them- he hadn't wanted to make them suffer. And yet they were suffering anyway, and it was tearing him apart. Seeing everyone like that- seeing Gaius, Gwen, and even Arthur like that- it was too much. How was he supposed to be brave when everyone around him was falling apart?

There were tears streaming down his own cheeks now. He was scared. More scared than he had ever been before in his life. And then, it was like something snapped inside of him. It was all just too much for Merlin. It wasn't supposed to be this way. This wasn't how he had imagined this would happen. Somewhere deep inside him, a voice screamed, forcing it's way up and out of his throat. And his magic reacted to this. Just as his terror reached it's peak, just as the flames reached him, just as he saw the expression on Arthur's face, his magic reacted.

His eyes glowed a brilliant, unfading, gold. A gold brighter than they had ever shone in his life. And it was suddenly as though his magic had a life of it's own. It streamed out of his body, a swirling mass of gold, filled with subtle streaks of blues and whites. It billowed around him, forcing those terrifying flames away from his body, dampening them until it was as though they had never been there. A wisp of the cloud broke off, flying up towards Arthur's window, wrapping itself around the unsuspecting Prince's arm. And still there was more of it flowing from his body.

Startled shouts echoed around him, the King's face turning to one of fury- obviously he thought that Merlin was trying to escape.

But that wasn't it. Wasn't it at all. Merlin tried to talk to his magic, to sooth it, to force it back into his body. But it was like it wasn't listening to him any more. He could hear it whispering to him, it's voice echoing in his head in a language only he could understand. It had sensed his fear. It wasn't going to let him die.

Of course, Uther was the first one to react in any normal way.

"Kill him!"

After a moments pause, several guards rushed forwards. One of them raised their sword, preparing to swing it down towards Merlin's neck.

"No! Wait! Something's wrong!" And it was. His magic was angry. It didn't want him to get hurt. It wasn't listening to him, no matter how hard he tried. It sensed a danger to his life, and lashed out automatically, hitting the guard square in the chest.

The other guards froze in shock as their companion flew backwards, landing in an unconscious heap on the floor. Merlin was the only one who made any noise at all.

"NO!"

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**Eep! So? Do I deserve any reviews? (Did you really think I'd be so mean as to let Merlin die like that? That's too evil even for me.)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Yay! I'm so glad you all liked yesterday's chapter so much. That moment with Merlin's magic bursting out to save him is the one I've been waiting to get to since before I even started writing the story, let alone had a full plan it. And thank you all so much for all the lovely reviews- every time I get one of those e-mails through, it always makes me smile :) Anyway, on we go. (Sorry it's a little bit late, I was out all morning, so I only finished this one a little while ago. Please let me know if you spot any mistakes)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 15**

Arthur saw it all.

He watched as Merlin paused in the entry to the square. Witnessed every moment of his walk across the courtyard. Listened angrily to his father's speech. Heard Guinevere's anguished cries. And all the while his eyes never left his friend's figure.

It was obvious that Merlin was scared, although he was hiding it well. For someone who had continuously proven himself to be such a horrendous liar, Merlin could be exceptionally good at concealing how he felt about things. But as time went on, as the torch was lowered and more and more cries broke out, Arthur could see Merlin's mask slipping. For most sorcerers' executions, there were no tears at all- people simply stared at the condemned with accusing eyes, some even going so far as to smile as they walked away. It was probably what Merlin had expected, and the young warlock was obviously finding it almost impossible to keep his composure through it.

For a moment there, looking at the terrified expression on his friend's face, Arthur would have willingly given up his future as king, sacrificed his entire destiny, just so that Merlin could escape. Because what use was a shared destiny if one of the people involved was dead? But that wasn't what Merlin had wanted for him, so Arthur had to hold in his anger as best he could- his only form of release being the slamming of his foot into the wall below the window as hard as he could.

And then Merlin looked at him. And Arthur wasn't just angry any more. He literally felt as though something was moments away from snapping inside of him. How could his father be so cruel? How could he kill a man who had sacrificed so much to protect them all? How could he?

The two boys' gazes locked together. It was just for a split second, but that single second was enough. The two yelled out at the same time, Arthur hammering violently against the window, pleading for a miracle- any sort of miracle- which would simply ensure his friend's survival.

And a miracle came. Barely a moment later, a strange golden haze formed itself around Merlin's body, quashing the flames just as they were about to reach where the young warlock stood. An instant later, and a small wisp of it had broken away from the cloud, heading straight towards the Prince's window. Entranced, he slammed open the window and held out his left arm to try and catch it. Then promptly gave a startled yelp and stumbled backwards, crashing onto the floor in an ungraceful heap as it sunk through his sleeve and wrapped itself around his arm.

Some of the guards from outside burst in at the noise, only to find a stunned Prince sitting on the floor and pulling up his sleeve to reveal what looked like a tattoo of a Dragon appearing on his forearm. It's scales glowed a brilliant gold for a moment, before fading to reveal that the pattern was interspersed with rich blue tones. It was gorgeous. So much so that Arthur found himself transfixed. Upon closer inspection, he could see that each scale seemed to contain what looked like words, but in no language that he knew.

A shout from outside quickly forced his attention away from the Dragon though. His father's voice.

"Kill him!"

He darted over to the window just as Merlin spoke.

"No! Wait! Something's wrong!"

There were several guards advancing on his friend, one of whom was just about to bring his sword swinging into the young warlock's neck. Just as Arthur was about to yell out, some of the golden smoke broke off, slamming the guard several feet through the air. Seeing the terrified look on Merlin's face, and hearing his cry, Arthur didn't hesitate. He immediately turned and made to run from the room, only to find his way blocked by the guards.

"We cannot let you pass sire- King's orders."

"Something has happened out there, and I need to go. I don't care what my father has said. Now, you will either let me pass and follow me to the courtyard, or so help me I will jump out of that window to get down there. What will it be?"

There were several tense seconds of silence, the guards staring at each other awkwardly, evidently each hoping that one of the other men would make the decision. Until, that is, Arthur turned and started heading back towards the open window.

"No! We'll let you pass sire! Just don't jump!"

Ignoring the satisfied feeling which rose within him, Arthur immediately pushed his way past them, sprinting through the castle corridors at breakneck pace. He didn't even notice the guards rushing to follow him, struggling to even keep him in sight. Just what was going on out there? What was happening? Was Merlin already dead by now?

He entered the courtyard to the sight of several guards standing warily by, not risking getting close to the young warlock who stood, hands still tied, on the Pyre. Understandable, he reasoned, as five of their comrades lay scattered around the courtyard. Gwen and Gaius were there too, trying to make their way over but being held back by some men from the town.

A single glance at the horrified expression on Merlin's face was enough to tell him what he wanted to know- Merlin had, of course, not intended this to happen. So what had gone wrong? Without another thought, and completely ignoring the sound of his father's angry protests, Arthur continued in his sprint, darting up the steps to join his friend on the Pyre. He thought nothing of it when the mists allowed him to pass through unharmed, instead focusing all of his attention on untying the bonds which kept the young servant boy in place on the wooden structure. Barely had the ropes been loosened before Merlin collapsed to his knees, tears in his eyes as he stared out at the unconscious forms of those who had sought to kill him. He was muttering where he knelt, seemingly not having even noticed the Prince's presence.

"No. No. This wasn't supposed to happen. What's happening? Nobody was supposed to get hurt. Why is this happening?"

Slightly panicked, the Prince grabbed hold of his friend's shoulders, forcing the young man to face him.

"Merlin? Merlin! Snap out of it, okay? Look at me!"

Merlin blinked, focusing his eyes, his gaze settling on the Prince's face.

"Arthur? Why are you here? Weren't you in your room?"

"I was. But now I'm here. Merlin." He looked round, gesturing to the golden smoke swirling around them. "What _is_ this?"

"I don't…" The warlock's voice was shaking now, as though unsure and even a bit scared. "I don't know. My magic… It… It didn't want me to die… So it's trying to protect me. I don't think it wants to hurt anyone either, but it wants to keep me safe, so it knocked them unconscious." He blinked again, fixing his eyes on Arthur's. "I'm scared Arthur. This has never happened before… I…"

"Shh- It's fine Merlin."

Arthur could see that his friend was close to breaking point. What was important now was getting him to calm down. They could figure out what his magic was doing later- both with the protective mist and the strange tattoo. But even more than that, there was another fact to be addressed. One he couldn't help but grin at.

"You're alive though! Merlin, you're still alive!"

Merlin was silent for a few seconds before even the slightest glimmer of comprehension began to dawn.

"I'm alive?" He stared round, taking in his surroundings, a small relieved laugh escaping his lips. "I'm alive. Arthur, I'm alive!"

"What do you think I just said? Idiot."

It was while they were there, crouched on the Pyre, that an unwelcome voice brought them snapping back to harsh reality.

Uther.

"Arthur! Bring the sorcerer to the throne room."

"Father, please-"

"May I remind you, Arthur, that you are still the Prince of Camelot, and I am your King. You have sworn an oath to honour and obey be, and you _will_ adhere to that oath!"

There were a few moments of silence in the square, during which Arthur stared defiantly up at his father. Sometimes he really hated being a Prince. It gave him so little freedom, and his opinion only ever seemed to matter in the court when it was something of little importance, or when discussing battle tactics. What use was it to be in a position of power when nobody would give you the chance to save those who needed saving?

Finally, he had the decision once again made for him. Merlin, standing now, looked down at him with a worried frown. He seemed calmer, but the young warlock's voice was still slightly shaky.

"I think we should do what he says Arthur. Me being out here with my magic acting like this is just going to make people nervous. If I'm away from them, I can try to work out what's going on, and maybe get it back under control."

"Merlin-"

"Oh, just get moving you prat. We haven't got all day."

Arthur promptly hit Merlin around the head for that, smiling jokingly.

"Oi- no matter what the situation is, you're still my manservant. Which means _I'm_ the one who gives the orders you idiot." h e paused, stepping down from the Pyre and turning to look back at his friend. "Well, come on then."

And with that the two of them began to move, making their way towards the throne room. And even though the situation seemed dire, Arthur couldn't quite keep back a small snort of amusement.

After all, he reasoned, it wasn't often that a sorcerer got a second trial from the King. Especially when they'd already been through their execution. Trust Merlin to be the first.

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**Yay Arthur! And stupid Uther. Honestly, that man can be a right pain sometimes. Plus, poor Merlin. All shaken up :'(**


	16. Chapter 16

**Al-righty then. Here's the next chapter. Plus, I'm really sorry but, due to the fact that the University has decided to give those on our course almost non-stop lectures on a Monday between 9 and 6, and because I have a society meeting straight after that, there is no way on earth I will be able to get the next chapter up tomorrow. Also, with work to do for Tuesday's lab session, I may not even be able to get it written by then. :'( I promise to try my hardest, but it may be that I won't be able to get it to you until Wednesday... (See- I have reasons. Please don't kill me!)**

**Anyway, this chapter is a little bit longer to try and make up for it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

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**Chapter 16**

As they made their way through the castle, both boys still shrouded in the golden mist, Merlin spent most of the time deep in thought. He was trying to communicate with his magic, but it was harder than usual. With a large portion of it outside of his body, it was similar to hearing only snatches of a conversation, where you are unable to make out all that the other party is saying. It disturbed him. He hadn't exactly had perfect control over his magic when he was young, but it had never done anything like this before. It was as though it was only acting out of the desires he had felt at the moment the flames were about to begin tearing at him- the simple desire to survive. It scared him. The young warlock had never heard of a case where magic acted in such a way. And what was that strange tattoo Arthur had shown him? None of this made sense.

He cast a surreptitious glance at Arthur's left arm, although the Prince had already pulled the sleeve back down. Well, he tried to be surreptitious. He knew he hadn't quite succeeded in that respect, due to the self-conscious tug Arthur gave the sleeve in question. From what he remembered, the tattoo had been in the shape of a Dragon. Surely that had to mean something?

For now, though, he had absolutely no clue about anything which was happening. Still, he had seen that Gaius was following somewhere behind. Maybe the old Physician would be able to offer some form of explanation?

The young warlock was jolted out of his thoughts by a sharp prod from Arthur. He was about to protest when he noticed that, sometime during his musings, they had reached their destination. Just through those doors, the entire court would be waiting for them once more. Hopefully, though, this would go a bit better than last time. He'd never liked executions anyway. He didn't really fancy the idea of going to his own. Again.

Uther's voice echoed out just seconds after they had passed through the doors.

"So this was your plan all along, sorcerer? You didn't object yesterday because you were planning to escape?"

"Father," started Arthur, "if you stopped for a moment, you would realise the absurdity of that accusation. Firstly, if that were true then it is also true that Merlin could have escaped at any point throughout the night- there would be no need to wait until he was standing on a lit Pyre. And secondly, if he _were _trying to escape, then he is the worst escapee in history. Because what would make him decide to escape only to purposefully come back here anyway?" There was a shocked silence throughout the room. The logic in those words was painfully clear. Even the King could not deny it. "Merlin did not intend to escape today, father. He was fully intending to die. It was his magic which saved him. He had no part in this."

It didn't take long for Uther to round on Merlin.

"What is he talking about? Explain."

Merlin made sure to give a small bow of the head before replying. It was probably wise not to anger the King any more than he already had. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steady his nerves. No matter what, he would not allow his voice to shake.

"I myself am not sure what happened, sire. My magic has always been a part of me- it is instinctual. I think it is acting this way to protect me."

"So you are trying to say that your magic acted of it's own will?"

"In a way."

A satisfied glint came into Uther's eye. "Then that is proof of what I have been saying all along. It was your magic which attacked those guards- this proves that magic is dangerous. Evil."

"No, sire. It does not prove any such thing."

The King's voice took on a steely edge as he replied. "Ridiculous. Of course it does. Why else would it attack those men?"

"Through a desire to protect me, sire." Merlin gestured to the cloud of magic. "From what I understand so far, it seems as though this mist serves the purpose of knocking unconscious any who come near who intend me harm. If someone attacked you, you would not hesitate to kill them in defence. And yet you are not evil. In that case, how does what my magic is doing make it evil? All it did what render those men unconscious- they are, I believe, otherwise unharmed."

"Then you must have ordered it to do so. I have never before heard of a person's magic acting independently."

Merlin had no idea how to react to that. What was he supposed to say? '_Oh, I'm a special case'_? Most people had a notorious habit of underestimating him. It was a side-effect of his unassuming personality and gangly appearance. Even after the events of yesterday, he doubted anyone would believe how powerful he could be. Even _he_ wasn't sure how powerful he was. And this was as new an experience to him as to everyone else. How could he be expected to explain what was going on?

Fortunately, he was saved from trying to explain by a cough from somewhere behind him- someone trying to draw the peoples' attention. Turning towards the source of the noise, Merlin was both relieved and grateful to see Gaius stepping forward and giving a small bow to the King.

"Gaius," said Uther. "I trust you have a reason for this interruption."

"I do sire."

"Then you may speak."

As the Physician walked forward a few paces, it was obvious that many people in the room were eager to hear what he had to say, Arthur and Merlin included. The old man had shown innumerable times in the past that he was capable of finding explanations where few others could. And that he was usually correct in his judgement.

"Thank you. I spoke to you last night, sire, about the possibility of Merlin being 'Emrys', a being mentioned in the prophesies of the druids."

The two young friends shared a startled glance. So Uther already knew about the prophesy? And still he had been about to have Merlin killed? Was he really so blinded when it came to magic that he would ignore such a thing?

"Gaius, you have no proof of such a thing. And I believe I told you last night that such superstitions hold no meaning in my Kingdom."

"Nevertheless sire, I believe it may be that this could offer some explanation as to why Merlin's magic is behaving in such a manner."

The King leaned back in his throne, and Merlin could have sworn he saw the beginnings of an eye-roll. Maybe that was where Arthur had picked up the habit.

"Very well then, you may continue."

"Thank you sire." Gaius took another few steps forward, so that he was now standing in front of the two boys. There were obvious reactions to the fact that he had passed through Merlin's mist unharmed, but no-one commented. "As I told you sire, 'Emrys' is the man foretold to become the greatest magic-user of all time. A man who would be as much a part of magic as magic would be a part of him. The events of today serve only to deepen my suspicions that Merlin is Emrys. For if he is a part of magic, it is understandable that his magic would protect him. If, as I believe Arthur was heard to say yesterday, Merlin has been able to use it instinctively since his birth, then as a life-long companion it would be reasonable to assume that his magic would not want to see him die. For while this is a phenomenon which has not been seen before, it is understandable if he is Emrys. For one with the destiny to guide and protect the Once and Future King in his path to the throne, perhaps the old religion sees him as too important. Perhaps it will not allow his death."

It was, thought Merlin, a feasible explanation. But still he was unsure of one thing. Normally, he would never bring it up, considering the King's temper. But this was not a normal situation. Besides, his magic would not allow him to die, or apparently to even be harmed, so maybe this would be the best time to address the issue at hand.

"Gaius?"

The old man turned towards him, along with everyone else in the room. Merlin almost cringed- he really wasn't sure he liked having this much attention on him. In fact, he would almost prefer to muck out Arthur's stables.

"I understand about my magic protecting me. I can guess as much from talking to it- although I'm not completely sure about why it's doing it in such a manner, but there is something else."

"What is it?"

"Well, for some reason, it gave Arthur some kind of tattoo. Is there any reason for this that you can see?"

This seemed to be a bit much for Uther to take. He rose to his feet, furious.

"What is this? Do you mean to curse my son?"

"No, I-"

"Father, calm down."

Shocked eyes around the room were now on Arthur as the young Prince stepped forward. "Merlin has just said that he doesn't know why it happened. And, I admit, I myself am interested in finding out. Gaius?" He walked toward the Physician, pulling up his sleeve and extending his arm as he went. "Do you know what this means?"

Glancing worriedly at his ward, Gaius bent over slightly, examining the tattoo as closely as he could. After a few minutes (during which most people hardly dared to breath) he straightened up again.

"I cannot say for sure what it is, as once again I had never seen or even heard of such a thing happening, but judging by the words- at least, the ones I can make out- it seems to be some form of protection."

"Protection?"

Gaius turned to face Uther. "Yes my lord. I cannot pretend to fathom exactly what is said, but there seems to be some form of protective spell woven into the Dragon's scales."

Merlin could hardly believe it. To think that his magic had done something so complex, purely on instinct. Plus, if even Gaius could not figure out the extent of protection the tattoo offered, it must be quite a complicated spell. Part of him yearned to study the tattoo- to try and figure out what mysteries the spell held. Maybe it even held some clues for him to work out more about the nature of his magic- it had always been his friend, but there were many things he had yet to learn about it. Things which, considering his destiny as Emrys, he sincerely doubted he would ever find from studying books.

However, that hope was rapidly quashed by a single look at the King's face. He was glaring at Merlin with more fury than the young warlock (or, indeed, Arthur) had ever seen before.

"You dare to mark my son, the Crowned Prince of Camelot, with your magic? Remove it at once."

Merlin quailed slightly, but answered anyway. "I do not know how, my lord. I don't understand how it happened, and until I have my magic fully under control again I doubt I will be able to understand. As such, I cannot remove it."

"Besides," quipped in Arthur, "I see no reason for him to try. You heard Gaius- it is some kind of protection. Surely the fact that he did such a thing _subconsciously_ shows that his true allegiance to Camelot runs deeper than even I realised."

"I do not know why he has done such a thing, Arthur, but as King I cannot allow magic to rear it's ugly head in my land unpunished. I will_ not _see this kingdom fall back into darkness- it took far too long to create the peace we now have. The only way I see to destroy the mark he has put on you is through his death. But, as it seems I cannot kill him, then I will have to take the next best step."

Uther raised his voice, making sure that every word could be heard around the room.

"The sorcerer is too dangerous to allow to roam free. In light of this fact, I, Uther Pendragon, decree that he is to be imprisoned in the deepest of Camelot's dungeons. Never to be released."

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***Runs away to escape flying machetes, pitchforks and flaming torches. Not to mention the volleys of arrows.* EEEP!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Phew. So, after a couple of the most draining days imaginable, I finally managed to get some time to write this chapter. Thanks so much for being patient with me (And thanks to fortheloveofcamelot for the Merlin loan- he was a great help :D It's too bad I have to give him back now...)**

**A word of warning- this story is, unfortunately, coming to a close. I'm thinking there's likely to only be one more chapter :( However, on the bright side, my mind is currently swirling with ideas for the third story. I just have to decide which method would work best and then fill it out a bit. Therefore, It shouldn't be too long before I start on writing it (I have a couple of one-shot ideas which are screaming at me to be written first though.) That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin (Although I'm not giving up on that magical phone-call)**

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**Chapter 17**

Arthur could only stare in shock. Had he heard his father correctly? Was the King _actually_ suggesting _locking Merlin up_ for the rest of the young warlock's life? Not only had he tried to have Camelot's greatest defender executed, but now this?

"Fath-"

"No Arthur." Uther was quick to interrupt, clearly tired of his son's objections. "I have heard enough. Not only is he a tremendous threat to the current state of the kingdom, the boy has himself admitted that his magic is now out of his control."

"But he'll be able to stop it soon enough. Surely-"

"I said no, Arthur. Regardless of what you believe, there is no guarantee that he will be able to control it once more. Or, indeed, that he will stay, as you insist, loyal to the kingdom. I will not take that chance."

"Father, please. It is blindingly obvious that Merlin is, and always will be, loyal to Camelot. Why else would he have so selflessly done all that he has? Why else-"

"I said I have heard enough!" The King was standing now, his face beginning to redden in his anger. "I have passed my judgement- my decision is final! If I hear any more from you on the topic, I will have you put in the cells for a month. Do I make myself clear?"

"But-"

"It's fine."

Spinning round to face this new interruption, Arthur could only stare at his friend's face. The dark-haired boy looked shocked, yes, but his face had taken on a resigned expression and his shoulders had slumped. Merlin looked warily around at the swirling mist, before turning sadly towards the Prince.

"It's fine Arthur. Maybe this way is for the best? Your father's right- as I am now, there's no telling what my magic could do." He paused, his eyes shining with the promise of unshed tears at the thought. "I don't want to hurt anyone Arthur. I can't."

"But you wouldn't hurt anyone Merlin- I know you wouldn't."

"But right now, everything's gone strange. I need time to work it out anyway, and at least this way I'll be able to do it without bothering anyone. Walking around with this around me, people are just going to think I'm some sort of monster."

Hearing the crack in Merlin's voice when he spoke those last few words, Arthur could almost feel the tears threatening to well in his own eyes. It was something Merlin had confided in him a short while after his secret had been revealed to the Prince. That growing up, he had often felt like he was a monster of sorts. He hadn't been allowed out for the first few years of his life, in case he had done something by accident which would draw attention, which swiftly resulted in him being somewhat of an outcast among many of the village children. Then he'd come to Camelot to find that, even though there were many types of magic-users, he was the only one of his kind. The only one quite so different to every other person he'd ever met. Arthur wasn't sure Merlin would be able to deal with being openly treated like that- having people treat him like some strange creature. It would be like a living, walking nightmare. He would be miserable.

It was that thought, more than any other, that made Arthur finally give in. That, and the heartbreaking expression in his friend's eye. At least this way, Merlin wouldn't be seen as a monster.

He would, even if secretly, be seen as a hero.

Arthur turned to his father, slowly nodding his acquiescence, his voice quiet. "Very well. We accept your decision." He could see Uther's brow furrow at the use of the word 'we', but the King said nothing about it. It was, after all, entirely clear that Arthur was only accepting this because it was what Merlin wanted. They were friends, and Arthur was determined to make sure that his father knew that that fact would never change. No matter how long they were apart.

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There was almost complete silence as they walked through the castle and towards the dungeons. A single guard had volunteered to come forwards to tie the ropes which now secured the young warlock's wrists behind his back. It was, Merlin thought, almost funny. The king obviously knew that a someone with his level of power would easily be able to escape the ropes, but he had done it anyway. Maybe he was trying to show people that it didn't matter how powerful the sorcerer, Camelot was capable of defeating them. Of course, none of the people seemed to believe this one bit. But, as much as the young warlock didn't agree with what Uther was doing, he could see the reasoning behind his actions. Not only would the very idea of magic in his kingdom remind the King of what he had lost, but he also feared the destruction of the so-called peace which had been built over the years. In a way, Merlin admired him. Uther had faced these events head-on, never seeming to waver in his ideals. Even with all his flaws, he was a worthy King.

Still, he could only hope that the repercussions of what Uther had decided would not be too severe. In Merlin's mind (and, although he didn't know this, also in Arthur's) it was painfully obvious what may well occur. Those with magic would see that even if they tried to help- even if they put their all into protecting the kingdom, rather than hurting it, there was still a large likelihood that if caught they would be killed. Sorcerers may well attack with more fervour than before. Merlin could only hope that it would not be so. After all, if it did become like that, would it be his fault? After all, his actions were the catalyst for this entire situation.

Lower and lower the group went, until eventually they reached the dungeon which would contain Merlin from now on. The young warlock had never been down here before- it was originally meant for any nobles of the highest order who committed treason beyond logical reasoning. Apparently, it had not been used in all the time Uther had been king. He knew that it would be guarded with the highest of security. No-one would be allowed to see him. Not even Arthur. Even as the Crowned Prince, his friend would not be permitted to pass.

Merlin cast a quick glance towards the Prince's arm. He could only hope that, whatever form of protection that tattoo offered, it would be enough. If Merlin himself could not be there to protect Arthur, who knew what threats the Prince would face.

Gwen, and even Gaius, had not been allowed to follow, but he could picture their faces nonetheless. The hurt in their eyes. Both may suffer because of this, but they were strong. He had no doubt they would walk through this with their heads held high. They would be sad, but it would not destroy them. They would simply look forward to the day when he would be released. The day when Arthur would be king.

On the King's command, he entered the cell, a pair of guards releasing the ropes around his hands, instead placing them in manacles hanging from the opposite wall. There was no window in the cell- it was far too deep for that- and the door was simply one large, unblemished metal slab, at least a couple of inches thick. There were no torch brackets, which meant that, once that door was closed, a normal prisoner would have absolutely no source of light. Not for the first time, Merlin reached for the comfort his magic always gave him. The thought of spending the rest of their lives in pitch black would eventually break even the toughest of men, but his magic would protect him from that, providing him with light where there was none.

The last thing Merlin saw before the door was slammed shut was Arthur's face. The Prince's expression conveyed more than words ever could- about his guilt regarding the situation, and his deep disappointment in himself.

Arthur had seemed more protective, somehow, since he had found out about Merlin's magic. It was as though he was trying to make up for something. But in that single second, Merlin tried to ease that. Tried with all his might to convey with his eyes that Arthur had nothing to apologize for. That he was proud of him. That he had faith in him. And that, one day, they would work together again.

And then the door closed, and Merlin was alone.

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**Aww- Poor ol' Arthur couldn't get a word in edgeways, and now Merlin's locked in a dungeon :( I feel kind of mean. But then, in some ways, it's an author's job to be mean sometimes. Therefore, I ban you from killing me for it :P**


	18. Epilogue

**So here it is- the final instalment of this particular story. Thank you guys sooooooooooo much for all of the reviews (especially those who have done so every chapter- you know who you are :D). I enjoyed reading every single one of them. And thanks too to the people who alerted this story and/or added it as a favourite. I always worried about showing people my writing, but you lot are just too awesome to resist- thank you so much for the support :D**

**And so, without further ado, here comes the epilogue. It's short, but it doess what I want it to, so what more can I say? Hope you like it :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. Still. How depressing :(**

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**Epilogue**

Morgana sat in her new chambers, thinking back over what she had learnt over the course of the past day. Both she and Morgause had been shocked when, just as they were about to set out for Camelot, Alvarr had appeared, ranting about how a boy- one he remembered to be the servant to the Prince- had thwarted their attempt to take over the city. Apparently, he had somehow managed to manipulate the flow of magical power, guiding it away from it's intended course- something none but the strongest of sorcerers should be capable of.

At first, Morgana had refused to accept it, and Morgause was just as disbelieving. After all, the servant to the Prince was _Merlin_. There was, they thought, no way that Merlin was a sorcerer, let alone one with any power.

But Morgause had spent the night preparing regardless, and that morning the two sisters had once again watched the images shown to them by the seeing crystals. When Merlin had first appeared in them, being guided across the castle courtyard towards a Pyre, Morgana had been unable to control the overwhelming shock which burst through her body.

So Merlin was a sorcerer.

It was, to the young seeress, the final betrayal. Any lingering doubts she had had about her past friendship for the boy vanished in that instant. She had trusted him with the knowledge of her magic. Had trusted him more than she trusted even Gwen at times. And yet, he obviously had not seen her in the same way. He had not believed in her enough to confide in her that he himself had shouldered a similar burden. He had turned his back on her when she needed him most, hiding behind concern for his own welfare. And then he had tried to kill her.

And if she couldn't trust Merlin- if the friendship they had shared was simply a lie all along- then she couldn't trust any of them. For surely, they would all betray her.

For a moment, she had thought that it would still be alright. Merlin was going to die. But Arthur had apparently known about him, and kept his secret. Maybe there was still hope for her for a future in Camelot, with Arthur as King. But then she realised that, if Arthur had known about Merlin's magic, then he probably knew about her involvement in Morgause's attack on Camelot. He would hate her. They would all hate her.

All but her sister.

Feeling this certainty sink into her being, she had continued watching, a part of her she had not previously known existed yearning to witness the moment of Merlin's death. The moment the betrayer was wiped from the face of the earth. She would watch the agony he felt in his final moments, and she would relish it.

But the image faded too soon, Morgause's hold over the Crystals slipping just as the torch's flames began to eat away at the Pyre. Morgana had almost screamed in frustration, but had remembered just in time that her sister had warned her about the crystals' unpredictable behaviour. Besides, the Pyre had been lit. There was no way Merlin would be able to escape. He was, she was certain, dying at that very moment. She was free of him.

The thought sent a satisfied shiver through her body as she recalled it once more. Merlin was dead. And as she sat in her chambers, she considered returning to Camelot. There would be no more bad memories now, she was sure of it- they would all have been burned away.

But there was no way she could return. From what she had seen, Merlin had protected the city from almost certain destruction, and had possibly done the same thing many times in the past, and yet Uther still ordered his execution. If he found it so easy to kill someone who had done so much for him, then the tyrant wouldn't think twice about burning her if her own secret was let out.

No, if she wanted to return- if she wanted to live with the freedom to use her magic however and whenever she wanted- then she would have to take charge. With her sister at her side, the two of them would work together to end Uther's reign, and to prevent Arthur's rise to the throne. They would bring the kingdom the people knew it to it's knees.

And this time, there would be no Merlin to stop them.

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**Alright, so to sum it all up, Everyone now knows about Merlin's magic. Uther tried to get him killed. Failed dismally (of course). His magic went wild, and he's now locked up in the deepest, most heavily guarded, dungeon in all of Camelot with no hope of being released any time soon. And now Morgana's decided to become every bit as evil as she was in the third series. But, she thinks that Merlin is dead. So... What will her plan be? I'm not telling. At least not until the next story. Then you'll just have to find out for yourselves *Sinister grin***


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